Explosive Repercussions
by MommaKristine
Summary: When the team misses vital facts tragedy strikes Washington DC. Now it's a race to outwit terrorists and survive. Will Tony and Ziva's new relationship survive an undercover mission? Established TIVA/McAbby.  Signed SEAL'd Delivered sequel can read alone
1. Chapter 1

Explosive Repercussions

Disclaimer – I don't own NCIS, bet that's no big shock.

NOTE: This is a sequel to Signed SEAL'd Delivered and picks up a month after that one left off. It is not necessary to have read that one first, though it helps for the back-story. For those who don't want to sift through 86,000 words, because this one is where you're determined to start, there will be spoilers for the previous story and back story will be given before some chapters.

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Previously on NCIS – Signed SEAL'd delivered:

While investigating the death of a former Navy SEAL Tony and Ziva were sent to Florida where an explosion incapacitated them through the end of the case leaving McGee and Gibbs to wrap up the investigation.

When Tim almost died trying to arrest the suspected drug runners Abby realized that her long buried feelings for him could no longer be ignored.

Tony and Ziva grew close during their hospitalization. Once released, Ziva tried to fight her feelings for Tony, in order for things to go back to normal. Tony went along with it, not happy, but understanding her logic for trying to keep things as they had always been. Both threw caution to the wind and gave up the battle after an argument.

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OK, now you're caught up, sort of, anything specific in each chapter will be foretold with spoilers from the previous story if I think you might need them.

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Chapter One

Tony was nervous, like a kid on prom night picking up his date when he just found out the girl's father was an avid hunter with a whole cabinet full of guns.

It was his first day back at NCIS after being on leave for injuries sustained on what should have been a normal, mundane, fact-finding trip to Miami. He had taken four of the suggested 6 weeks off work, hadn't even begged Gibbs to come in and work on paperwork around the office.

He supposed he had Ziva to thank for staying away for a full month and getting the rest, his body needed. He also had her to blame for coming back early.

She had been the one pushing to return to work, even though she should be taking another three to five weeks off to recover from her broken ribs. No matter what he had said, she still took and passed her re-evaluation. The moron testing her had stupidly cleared Ziva for active duty, so here he was, pushing for the same thing, early return to work.

After spending a month of days and glorious nights with her without having to do much of anything, he wasn't sure he was ready to go back. He wasn't sure he was ready to face Gibbs. He wasn't sure he was prepared to be near Ziva without being able to touch her, hold her, wherever, however, and whenever he wanted.

They had gotten quite comfortable in the past month. It was strange in a way that wasn't awkward or unnerving. As he stepped out of the elevator, he was glad to see their team's section completely deserted. His thoughts about the past month were all consuming.

Sitting at his desk, he thought about all they had been through in that short time.

From that first night, one of them would find a reason to be at the others house as the sun went down, if they hadn't stayed in all day.

He hadn't slept alone in a month. He marked the milestone mentally. April 28th was the first night they had been together and here they were May 28th. Now they would be going back to work in separate cars on separate routes to arrive at different times from the same location.

Last night they had stayed at her place, slow gentle lovemaking to ease them through one last night of freedom before they had to go back to work.

Most nights, she would reach a point where she needed some space. She would get that look he had coined the 'scared rabbit look' and would glance around as if planning her escape.

She threw on some sweats and sneakers and went for a run. The first couple of times he was worried she might not come back. Her leaving without a word had been nearly as distressing as worrying about her. She was out running with fresh chest wounds and he worried she was pushing herself too hard.

He had paced and lectured himself about pushing her or crowding her and running her off. Whatever he had been doing when she suddenly left, he would make a mental note not to do anymore.

After a few days of her running off and coming back, he found himself on eggshells until lying in bed one night she had finally had enough.

She asked him what was wrong with him, why he stopped rubbing her back, goofing off with her in the kitchen while they cooked and even running his fingers through her hair.

He sheepishly responded that he thought she didn't like those things, because she had left in frustration and went for a run.

He is sure he will never get her little sexy chuckle out of his head, or the way she trailed light kisses down his chest as she responded, "Oh, I like it. Sometimes I like it too much."

He hadn't understood what she meant, so he laid back and closed his eyes, knowing she would either continue talking or continue what she was doing to his body and either was sure to be worth him exerting a little patience.

That last night of freedom before they had to go back to work, she hadn't gone out for a run. They had just stuck close to her house all day and close to each other.

They shared an omelet for breakfast, went for a walk around the neighborhood, and enjoyed a nap that was more play than sleep. They watched movies and made dinner together. He had to admit homemade pizza was better than anything you bought for delivery. They shared a shower that steamed things up again and resulted in the need to get back in the shower shortly thereafter.

Somehow, over the last month he had ended up with nearly as many of her clothes as his own in his apartment and had taken over nearly half of her closet with his things. He had gone shopping last week and smiled as he purchased two of everything, one for his place, one for hers. It was nice to have his own brands of soap and shampoo, even if by the end of the day he still ended up smelling like her anyway.

He'd even managed to pick up a few of her favorite things to put in his bathroom. He kicked his feet up on his desk as he thought about the reaction she had to seeing those small comforts of home on his bathroom sink and in the shower.

He was rewarded for the tiny effort.

The elevator dinged, pulling him out of his memories before they could get too steamy. He was both relieved and disappointed that it was McGee, instead of Ziva, who walked out.

"Hey, Tony." McGee said with a huge grin, "It's good to have you back."

Tony swung his feet off his desk and stood up, "It's good to be back, though I feel a little like a third wheel with a light duty restriction for the next week."

Tim shrugged, "You're not the only one." He replied, holding up his right arm, still in a cast.

"New cast?" Tony asked, noting that this one was a pale shade of blue where the last one had been dark.

"Yeah, got frustrated with not being able to type last week and cut it off. Gibbs didn't think that was very smart, made me go get a new one." Tim smiled sheepishly, "Glad you're back to take all these head slaps I've been getting lately." He rubbed the back of his head for effect.

Tony laughed; he had wondered how Gibbs would react with half of the team out on medical leave.

"Did you hear whether Ziva got that waiver to start back? Abby said something about her pushing to come back early."

"She has an appointment with the doctor today. I'm sure they will say no, but she's very convincing. She's been going crazy not being able to work." Tony chuckled.

"And you haven't?" Tim asked, incredulous.

Tony just shrugged, "At first, yeah, but I haven't had a vacation in years. I think doctor's orders to take it easy helped." Tony cringed, "Also, there's nothing like the threat of permanent neurological damage to convince me that taking it easy and having a daily nap are good things."

Tim smiled at the thought, "So you're like some old guy that needs to take a nap?"

Before Tony could respond, the elevator dinged and he looked up to see Ziva stepping off. He tried to keep a neutral expression, but he was on the edge of his seat, waiting for the angry tirade that came from her being denied a return to work.

It never came as she moved immediately to her desk, took off her jacket and started booting up her computer.

"Well?" he asked, having completely forgotten that Tim had insulted him just a moment ago.

Ziva didn't acknowledge him at first as she finished logging in and groaned at the number of emails in her inbox from the extended absence, "That doctor is an idiot. I am thinking about seeking a second opinion."

Tony just smiled warmly, hoping to reassure her with the expression, but she didn't look up, "So he didn't clear you to come back?"

Ziva sighed in frustration and finally looked up from her computer, "He said I have to stay out of the field for a _week_."

She said the last word with such distaste as if it were the worst thing in the world. He couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out despite the angry glare he knew he would receive, "You're being irrational." He said lightheartedly, knowing he was adding to the anger building in her, "How long was the desk duty before you threatened him?"

Her anger seemed to fade as an amused look took its place, "Two weeks out and two weeks at a desk, and I did not threaten him." She winked at him and he felt a thrill through him, but fought the desire that was brimming. "I volunteered for a full physical and ran on a treadmill for a while. Apparently he is used to weak women who wine for weeks about minor injuries."

Tim scoffed at that, "Minor, right." He said sarcastically. "It's good to have you back, Ziva."

"Do not think your kind greeting will make me forget that you had broken bones, too. You did not have to miss work."

"Where's Gibbs?" Tony asked, attempting to change the subject before Ziva continued to vent her frustrations, he had heard all of this repeatedly over the last month. She didn't seem to think that fractured ribs and a punctured lung were anything to sneeze at.

The thought of sneezing made him smile. He remembered cooking dinner with her two weeks ago.

He had been shaking some Italian seasoning in a pot of spaghetti sauce. She had been cuddling him from behind with her arms around his waist and suddenly she was tickling him.

He dropped the Italian seasoning sending a cloud up, surrounding them. They had both broken into fits of sneezing. She tried to hide how much the sneezing hurt her chest, but he had shooed her out of the kitchen to rest while he finished cooking and cleaned up the mess.

A loud thud brought him out of his thoughts. Tim had grabbed some files from behind his desk and plopped a large stack on each of their desks, "He's working cases with some of the other teams and _we_ get to do the paperwork."

Ziva and Tony groaned in unison, before passing matching sympathetic looks at each other.

Ziva was first to put voice to what they were both thinking, "We should have stayed home."

Tony didn't miss the smile or the questioning look from Tim at the way Ziva had phrased that, but he just shrugged noncommittally and opened the first file.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

McGee was getting frustrated again.

His damn cast was itchy and annoying. He couldn't stand only being able to use a couple of fingers on his right hand. He felt like Tony, pecking out words on his keyboard.

Granted he had a month to work up to where he was now and he had improved in leaps and bounds as the pain of the injury went away. Still, in moments like this he was just pissed off.

He had sent Abby an instant message and she responded much faster than he could. By the time he had typed his response, she had already sent another comment followed by a question or three.

Finally, he let the frustration get the better of him. Tim pounded out 'be right there' on his keyboard a little harder than necessary and closed the IM window.

At least if he went to see her she could make three statements to his one while he was standing there with her. It would be better than sitting here with the stack of papers that didn't ever seem to get smaller while he tried to figure out Tony and Ziva.

As he rode the elevator down, he considered the situation.

He kept going back to whether Ziva had actually meant 'we' should have stayed 'home' as in she and Tony together shouldn't have left whichever of their two houses they were staying at. Thought she could have just as easily been making a simple statement that he was reading far too much into.

He didn't think it was as innocent as Tony's shrug suggested it was. He had considered it odd that DiNozzo didn't try to come back early.

Tim knew he wasn't the type to take time away from work unless he was forced. He also knew Gibbs would have let him work restricted duty or part time days, fought with legal and the director, too if he had to in order to get his team back together. As far as Tim knew, Tony hadn't even asked.

That was the part that made Tim wonder if there was something or _someone_ keeping him from actually taking the time off to recover.

Sure, Tony had gone to lunch or hung out with him and watched a movie a couple of times while the two were out on leave, but it had just been him and Tony. After having a heart to heart with Tony in Miami where they compared how frustrating Abby and Ziva were, he was certain his friend would have told him if something had happened.

If something changed in Tony and Ziva's relationship, McGee had hoped his friend might tell him. In hindsight, perhaps the extended vacation had more to do with Tony trying to get over whatever had gotten into him in the hospital in Miami. Tim could understand that kind of mindset. He had gone through the urge to run and hide a couple of times after Abby had broken his heart and turned down his proposal all those years ago.

He found it fitting that his mind had shifted to Abby as the elevator swung open and he walked into her lab.

He walked in to the sound of heavy metal music, a 'noise' he had actually found himself starting to enjoy lately. Perhaps it was a familiarity thing, or maybe it was just that he knew the raucous tempo lifted Abby's spirits and the deafening cadence spurred her intuitive brain into near superhuman levels of concentration.

He loved how she could get so drawn into something that she seemed to forget there was a whole world outside. He was always fascinated to watch her move around the lab with determined purpose, her head bobbing to the beat as she loaded samples in incubation trays and the grace and speed that her fingers had as they flew over the keys.

However, he really didn't mind when she got this extreme level of concentration at home, either.

With that thought in mind, he moved up behind where she was working on her computer. He braced his hands on the counter, reaching around either side of her and pinning her in place.

The move was a little awkward because of the cast on his right hand, but he took a moment to savory her proximity before he trailed light kisses from the base of her neck up. He finally stopped with a light kiss just behind her ear.

"Hey, baby," he whispered before pulling away. One of these days, Gibbs was going to walk in and he was going to be in serious trouble, so he tried to keep any signs of affection as brief as his body and mind would allow. Some days that was easier than others.

"Hey, yourself." She responded before turning to faced him.

He noted the slight pink hint to her cheeks and was certain that this was going to be one of the more difficult days.

"So, what's the big hubbub about?" Abby asked, returning to her computer.

"I think there's something going on between Tony and Ziva."

Abby smiled at him, a cocky little grin that said pretty much the same words that came out of her mouth, "Oh, and you're really one to talk about other people?"

Tim's smile was more than a little rueful, "I know, but they're my friends and I've kind of already talked to Tony about some of this stuff, so I feel like if anything did come of it they would have told me."

She laughed at that, "You mean you feel like Tony owes you because you had a 'buddy talk'?"

His smile turned a little sheepish, "Yeah, I guess, but, I just thought, oh, never mind."

"No, I will not 'never mind'. List the facts in evidence if you're so certain that they're keeping something from you. That's a pretty steep accusation there, Timmy."

Tim signed, she was right. He really didn't have anything concrete, "It's all circumstantial."

"Well," she said as she grabbed his arm and dragged him over to stand next to her at the computer keyboard, "Present the evidence while you help me crack the code on this frustrating embezzlement case Gibbs is working on."

"OK, so I guess the most obvious point is that Tony actually followed doctor's orders and stayed away from work for a while month. That's just not something he would do. I was thinking that perhaps having someone to stay home with would have made that a little easier to stomach and that's why he didn't push to come back sooner."

Abby chuckled, "He tried to come back the first week."

This was news to McGee, "What?"

"Yeah," she continued, "His doctor told him that if he didn't give his brain enough time to heal he could still end up with some form of adult onset epilepsy. When you think about it, missing a month of work when the other possibility is that he could never return to work is not a bad trade off. When I found that out I made Gibbs swear he wouldn't take Tony back until the doctor said he was cleared for duty and I told Tony that if he came into this building without the release from the doctors that I would light a brick of thermite on his head and burn his bones to ashes."

Tim smiled at the picture of Abby bossing around two of the strongest men he knew.

"What's your next piece of evidence?" she asked innocently as they continued trying to break the complex code.

"They didn't come in to work together today, but he did know exactly where she was and what she was up to." His brow furrowed at the screen, what was this person some kind of mad rocket scientist? Who designs codes this complex for a half a million-dollar embezzlement scheme?

"She was at the doctor getting her own waiver. I gave her the same threat as Tony." Abby flicked her gaze sideways to take in his puzzled expression and brought her eyes right back to the screen. "She posted about her appointment from the Doctor's waiting room on Facebook. Tony's a Facebook friend. So are you, so you should probably have seen that, too and known exactly where she was this morning. Should I be worried that you have something going on with Ziva?"

Tim chuckled, "You know I don't. I couldn't and wouldn't want to do anything to hurt you."

"You wouldn't because of that brick of Thermite," she said as she leaned into him and pressed a light kiss to his temple, "and you couldn't because you're a big hearted softy who worships that ground I walk on."

He chuckled as she turned back to the code.

"Do you have any other evidence?"

He shrugged, "Just something Ziva said to Tony this morning. There wasn't any bantering or suggestive comments, no overly pronounced little staring contests or any kind of playful flirtations as there always seems to be around those two. She did say 'we should have stayed home'."

She shook her head, sometimes he was so dense, "Yeah and that's a very common turn of phrase."

"What about the fact that they both came back on the same day. The same day, Abby, the odds of that must be astronomical."

She just shrugged again, not willing to give in to his 'evidence', "Tony's doctor was a little over protective and Ziva's doctor had a self-preservation instinct. You and I both know that she is too damn stubborn to let anything keep her out of here for too long."

Tim had to admit she had several valid points. "So it was all in my imagination, huh? I guess that makes sense when I'm too wrapped up in you to even know up from down half the time."

"No," she responded simply as she stared at the computer monitor and started checking her lip.

"No?" he asked in confusion, "Are you saying I'm not wrapped up in you?"

"Technically not at the moment, but I meant no it's not all in your imagination. Your evidence just doesn't stand up."

He let the mental pictures of being wrapped up in her fade as his brain registered the last part, "Oh yeah? And what is _your_ evidence?"

"A couple of weeks ago I went out to lunch with Tony and he took me to Ziva's favorite little deli on the Anacostia River."

Tim shrugged, he guessed it was his turn to be in charge of rebuttals, "And we all work together, so he probably found out from her on lunch one day."

She scoffed, "Then explain why Tony kicked me out after a single Movie the other day when it was only six at night because he needed to take a 'nap'?"

Tim scoffed again, "He said his doctor recommended naps for his brain health."

"That may be so," she responded, not sure whether it would be wise to fling something across the room in her frustration of this whole coded message thing. It was so James Bond, 007 mystery and intrigue. So outdated and yet so modernly frustrating due to its complexity. "But have you ever known Tony to pass up company to watch a movie with him?"

Tim just shrugged, eyes still focused on the complex pattern of symbols, numbers and letters. "Not, but is that all you've got."

She gave him one of her triumphant smiles and he should have known better than to think she'd leave with her best arguments. "It's the bathroom, Tim." She said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, but she could tell he still wasn't getting it.

"Why would they both have need of two different kinds of soap? Both have bar soap and liquid soap of exactly the same brands in their bathrooms."

"Is that it? I bet they are common brands. Lots of people have bar and liquid soap."

She smiled at him then as she put in the last nail to blast away any remaining doubt. Doubt that, if he thought about it, she had actually put there in the first place. "What about inside their showers? Why would Ziva need a shampoo plus conditioner for hair endurance and why Tony would need shampoo and conditioner for long thick hair?" she smiled as the realization that she had been poking around occurred to him and he seemed surprised, why that was she would never know.

Despite the derailing thoughts of her obvious penchant for curiosity she continued, "Both bathrooms have men's and women's deodorant, razors, styling gel, hairspray, exactly the same brands. Try to tell me that's a coincidence."

He couldn't, but the sudden thought of mirror image bathrooms gave him an idea on the code.

He leaned over and planted a kiss on her mouth before nudging her out of the way to invert the image of the coded message. "You're a genius."

She responded with a chuckle, but as she saw what he was doing and a light bulb clicked, she pushed him to the side again so she could help crack the code.

As the message started to become clear on the screen he tried to steer them back to the conversation they had been having, but Abby put her finger across his lips to stop him from talking, "Later." She promised.

"Why not n-"

She cut him off with a look that told him he was an idiot, "Because you just broke the case and Gibbs is going to be down here any second when his Gibbs-dar starts beeping to tell him we got something."

Tim rolled his eyes just before he heard the sloshing of ice against a plastic cup that signaled Gibbs had arrived with a Caf-Pow! for Abby. "What have ya got Abs?"

She gave Tim a cocky little 'I told you so' smile before turning to Gibbs and filling him in on what they had come up with.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

As soon as Tim was gone, Tony moved over to Ziva's desk to 'help' her with one of the files.

He leaned into her space, taking in the scent of her, the feel of her back molding instinctively to the front of him, the sound of her breath hitching in her throat at the sudden contact.

"What are you doing?" she breathed out on a whisper that sent a pulse of desire through him.

"Just helping you with this file." His own whisper must have had the same effect on her as he felt her shudder against his chest.

He pulled back to a more familiar distance and actually let himself focus on the file on Ziva's desk. It was the only thing he could think to focus on that would pull his brain back out of the bedroom.

Unfortunately, the case was a simple drug bust that wasn't going to hold his interest for long. As he read through the facts of the open and shut case a second time he let his mind go back to Ziva, "Do you really think you're ready to be back at work, to be back in the field next week?"

She shrugged, her shoulders brushing his chest as he hovered over her workspace, "I have been running every day for weeks." She gave him a teasing smile over her shoulder before turning back to typing up the report, "On top of that I have been under a very rigorous physical schedule that involves strength training, endurance, and stamina."

Each husky word was like a caress and he found himself wondering for at least the tenth time that day that they should have stayed home.

He glanced at the clock on her computer screen, but that didn't help and he let out a little groan. "If we were home right now, do you have any idea what I would be doing to you?"

He saw her glance at him from under her lashes and he felt that familiar heat rise up in him. He couldn't believe just a month before he never would have expected to see that look on her face.

She wiped the look away relatively quickly as she gave him a teasing smile in return, "No, but I know what I would be doing with you." She turned back to her computer before continuing on a light airy tone, "Remember what I did for you after you bought all that stuff so I would be more comfortable at your house?"

His eyes closed slowly as he let his mind replay the events of that night, "That's something that will never be pried out of my brain."

She chuckled, but he didn't hear a bit of humor in the husky exhalation, "I have been craving a fresh taste of you on my lips." He saw her reflection in the computer monitor and could have sworn that she licked her lips just then.

"Ziva, you're going to be the death of me." He groaned in frustration as he grabbed the folder for the report she had just finished and moved it to the side. He decided it was a good idea to stay right there for at least a few minutes while he tried to regain control of his body.

"A little excitement and frustration will not kill you, Tony."

He shifted a little to the left so that when he reached across her to grab the next file she could feel exactly what she had done to him, "But Gibbs might if he finds me in my current state." He whispered as he shifted back, but remained close.

Ziva gave him a wicked little smile that he was going to have to wipe off her face as soon as they got home tonight. There would be no time for dinner, no time for socializing, hell; there might not be time to drive home if she didn't stop looking at him like that.

He finally derailed the train of thought as he opened the next folder and came face to face with the remains of a sailor's wife. She had apparently been dead for several days before being located and her mangled body was disgustingly decomposed. It had the desired effect of a cold shower and instantly they began discussing the case.

Ziva seemed to be as determined to stick to the facts of the case, as he was. It was the only outward sign that their proximity and conversation had any kind of effect on her.

He was still there, hovering a little too close when the elevator dinged and McGee and Gibbs joined them.

He knew it was something they had done hundreds of times before, her at her desk, him hovering just a little too close, but he still felt the urge to jump away. He fought the urge, mostly because her hair smelled like her pillow in the morning when she left him alone to go for a run making him want to close his eyes and savor it, but also because he was sure to look guilty and suspicious if he started acting guilty and suspicious.

He felt a slight breeze before Gibbs gave him a light rap on the back of his head as he passed, "Boss, you're taking it easy on me." He responded with surprise, finally standing to his full height and starting back to his own desk.

That earned him a glare, "Don't get used to it, as soon as you're clear for full duty this pandering will stop." Gibbs grabbed a couple of things from his desk, "Tim got a break on a case. I have to go meet with Jones and his team." He stopped on his way out of their area to glare at Tony again. "DiNozzo, remember what we talked about?"

Tony could only give a curt nod, it had not been the most pleasant of conversations and even thinking about it now, he felt himself tense up. Oh, he had received some threats over the years from Ziva, but he was only concerned she would actually kill him one time. Gibbs had left his threat open-ended and graphically detailed.

"Good." He remarked simply as he left.

"What did he mean by that?" Ziva asked once Gibbs had left.

At the same moment McGee asked, "What was that about?"

Tony found himself wrapped up in the intense horror Gibbs had described the night he referenced. The fate that Tony would face should he screw up was not a pleasant set of thoughts.

For some reason, on that night, their normally quiet boss had spoken excessively with very distinct mental imagery that flowed like prose from Edgar Allan Poe. His words and threats had been dark, intense, violent and downright frightening. It sent a shiver down Tony's spine just thinking about it.

The action seemed to snap him out of the memory and he realized that McGee and Ziva had been trying to ask him something. He turned back just in time to hear McGee say, "How many times is it appropriate to say 'What?' before you just nod and smile because you're still being ignored?"

He saw the worry in Ziva's eyes, hidden under the mask of frustration, but she just shrugged at McGee and turned back to her work.

"Oh, um," Tony would have liked to get the burden off his chest and share it with Ziva, but he had already promised himself that he wasn't going to do that. He definitely wasn't going to so it with McGee there. There was no way he would tell McGee that Gibbs had given him a pee-the-pants level frightening lecture, so he cleared his throat and continued, "Probably just the same talk you got, Probie." Nevertheless, Tony hoped he was wrong. As strong as Tim had grown to be, he wouldn't wish that on the boy. He couldn't take it.

Tim gave him a puzzled look, "Something about coming back to work?"

"Uh oh." Tony responded, actual concern mixing with the humor of the moment, "You haven't told Gibbs about you and Abby?" he let out a heavy sigh, clearly expressing his fear for the young man's safety, but couldn't hide the smile at the stricken look on Tim's face. He couldn't stop the good-natured ribbing he knew he shouldn't be giving Tim, "Oh, man, he is going to kill you when he finds out. He does _not_ like secrets. It doesn't help that you're playing with fire by putting the moves on Abby. She is easily his favorite person." He added the last line with a hint of sarcasm, but at least this way he wouldn't be alone in his misery.

"Wait, what?" Tim asked, thinking over what Tony had said. "You _told_ Gibbs?"

Tony put on a mock innocent smile, "Told him what?"

"About," Tim trailed off as if unable to find the words and simply gestured between Tony and Ziva.

Tony's smile was sincere as he took in Ziva's expression across the table. She was giving him an 'I told you so' look and she was right. She had told him more than once that he should tell McGee about them. Tim was the last one to know, but he had sworn her and Abby to secrecy, wanting McGee to feel like he accomplished something when he figured it all out on his own.

They hadn't really made it that tough for him, but he still seemed to be about a month behind the boat there.

"Immediately." Tony responded with a very serious tone before he slipped in a playful chuckle and gave Ziva a heated look across the space between their desks. "Well, maybe not immediately, but the next morning, anyway."

Tim was floored.

First, how could he not have known what was going on, missed all the subtle queues, missed all the hints and facts, but most importantly, why would Tony tell Gibbs? Moreover, since he had told Gibbs, why was Tony still on the team and breathing?

After several minutes, he finally asked the question Tony was hoping he never would, "What did he say."

DiNozzo gave him a cocky little smile, "Wouldn't you like to know?" he said as he pulled open another file, "I guess you'll find out as soon as you have a chat with him about your own situation."

Tim groaned. He didn't like the idea of talking to Gibbs on a personal level, telling him to his face that he had been breaking one of his rules. Of course, if Tony could do it, despite the obviously negative reaction he had obviously gotten, Tim was confident he could handle it as well.

He smiled a little at the thought of Abby and him being able to put all the sneaking around and hiding things behind them. He dug into his paperwork, but was distracted by how he would approach Gibbs to tell him.

xoxo

Gibbs felt the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he headed down to meet with Jones and his team concerning the embezzlement case.

He liked that his team was still afraid of the repercussions of pissing him off. It made them easier to handle on a daily basis.

He had to admit some of the smile was a memory of watching the normally jovial, talkative Anthony DiNozzo stand speechless next to the woodworking bench in his basement.

Tony didn't move for several minutes as Gibbs threatened him with the darkest things he could think of if he ruined the team or broke Ziva's heart. His senior agent had stood there with his mouth slightly ajar and the blood flowing out of his face, leaving a white ghost of itself behind with wide eyes full of fear.

Gibbs had enjoyed the little venting session, enjoyed pointing out all the little things that Tony probably hadn't thought about while he was letting his body do his thinking for him.

He had to admit, though, that the young man had a good answer for just about every question, situation, or potential problem that Gibbs threw at him. Tony hadn't resorted to jokes or distractions. He hadn't fallen back on shrugs and non-answers. He stood his ground and, even on shaky legs, looked Gibbs in the eyes.

Once the shock had worn off, Tony had pulled up a stool, graciously accepted a much-needed glass of bourbon and carefully considered each point Gibbs made.

He had to admit, despite the newness of the relationship, less than twelve hours according to Tony, the young man refused to back down. Tony had put a considerable amount of effort into figuring out a solution to every potential situation Gibbs threw at him.

"What happens when you get bored and want something new?" He had asked.

Tony grinned, "Really, Boss?" he had asked sarcastically, and then he grew serious. "If anything, she's going to be the one that gets bored or fed up or just plain scared and runs off. If she does, I promise to do everything in my power to bring her home again."

That was the defining statement where Gibbs had actually thought for the first time that this was not some kind of whim for DiNozzo. He knew that look in the other man's eyes; he had seen it in the mirror all those years ago.

He just hoped they could keep their heads on straight, because if not they would be the death of what had grown to be the most effective and efficient team he had ever led.

He finally pulled himself out of his thoughts on Tony and Ziva, as he walked up to Agent Clark's desk where Jones and his team were gathered.

"Jones," Gibbs called, "We got a break."

xoxo

A/N: Ok, you may have noticed that I am getting this story out a little slower than last time, but I am working on it when I have time and it doesn't interfere with my family life. I swear I haven't been to bed at a reasonable hour in over a month thanks to Signed SEAL'd Delivered and my brain and body can't take a repeat of that. I will write as much as I can whenever I can and try not to leave you all hanging for more than two or three days if possible.

As always, let me know what you think, because it makes my day to hear from you. And before you ask, yes there is a case coming, and no it will not be related to the encrypted embezzlement scheme. That was just filler so you all understand exactly what the team is up to as they attempt to come back together in their new roles.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

It had Taken Tim two mind numbing days of paperwork to talk himself into following through with what Tony had suggested.

He had been on his way down to get Abby for lunch when Gibbs stepped up to wait for the elevator next to him. They waited in silence for the lift.

Once they were both on, they reached for the button that would take them to Abby's floor at the same time. Tim pulled his hand back and let Gibbs press the button. He was lost in spiraling thoughts. The thought of what to say to Gibbs, how to say it, and where he would have a chance to speak with him in private had been weighing on him for all of the past two days.

At least, as he reached for the emergency stop switch, he was certain he had found the place and a little time to discuss it with him in private. Once the elevator came to a stop and the emergency lights were on, Tim turned to meet the frustrated look he was receiving from his boss.

"Uh, Boss? I need to talk to you about s-something." Tim started, slightly disappointed that he wasn't able to make the statement without a stutter. This did not bode well for the fluidity of the conversation to come.

Gibbs crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back against the side of the elevator and cocked his head to the side. He was waiting for McGee and the younger agent was not sure he would be able to do this.

Feeling as if it were too late to turn back now, Tim took a deep breath, "I have been following two of your rules while simultaneously breaking a third."

Gibbs cocked an eyebrow, "Is this one of those good news/bad news things? I don't care which one you tell me first, but just get on with the telling so I can go see if Abby found anything on that murder weapon."

"So, I," Tim cleared his throat, why was he so nervous, "Abby and I have uh, we've been, uh, seeing each other."

Gibbs cocked his eyebrow again, but didn't respond at first until Tim didn't appear to have anything else to say on the subject. "How long?"

Tim looked at his watch and then felt immediately silly as he responded, "39 days and about 7 hours."

Gibbs chuckled a little at the fact that McGee was tracking the hours, "I know."

"Wait, you know?" Tim was confused and relieved at the same time.

Gibbs glared at him, but the expression was cut by the small smile turning up one side of his mouth, "Ya think, McGee?"

"Right, Boss. Shouldn't have forgotten that you don't miss a thing."

Gibbs shrugged, "And Abby already told me the day before you all went down to the beach in Florida last month." His expression suddenly became serious again, "I told her the same thing I told Tony and Ziva and the same thing I'm telling you now. If you do anything to mess up this team, if you grab-ass at work, if you break that woman's heart I swear you will regret it. Wrath will rain down on you such as you have never imagined. You will be transferred to the other side of the world so quickly you won't even have time to pack, and-"

Tim cut him off, "You really told Abby not to break my heart?" he was incredulous about the statement Gibbs had made about telling him the same thing as Abby.

"Actually," Gibbs responded, the brief flash of anger at the interruption was replaced with a strange gentleness that Tim was not used to coming from his Boss, "I told her to tell you sorry, tell you it was a mistake and that it shouldn't happen again."

Now it was Tim's turn to feel a sudden anger, "You have a lot of nerve thinking you can control her like that. I bet it really gets on your nerves that she ignored your orders."

"Wasn't an order, it was a request."

Tim was confused, "Why, though? Is it rule twelve? You just didn't want it to interfere with work, because we were very professional the last time we were together."

Gibbs didn't respond at first. "Rule twelve is a little shot to hell, don't you think?"

Tim didn't respond so Gibbs continued, "I know what happened last time, though, and I didn't want to see it happen again if it could be avoided."

Tim shrugged, "I shouldn't have been so pushy the first time." He said simply. He had given it a lot of thought and to boil every thought and feeling he had from their first time together down into a single sentence almost seemed wrong.

Gibbs was shaking his head again, "You know her, Tim. Do you think she expects people around her to change much?"

Tim looked down, "No, she really doesn't do too well with change."

"So," Gibbs continued as if asking a question, leaving it open for Tim to finish. McGee just looked at him expectantly as if not sure what to fill the silence with. Sighing, Gibbs continued, "So, she doesn't expect that you would change any, but she's willing to be with you anyway. I think you may have finally gotten an answer to that question you asked her years ago."

Tim was speechless, so Gibbs continued, "Though I would advise you wait a while to ask it again."

Tim grinned as Gibbs flipped the emergency stop switch back off and the elevator resumed moving. He suddenly found himself not nearly as hungry as he had been and with a whole lot more to think about. "Since you're going to see Abby will you let her know that I'll grab some take-out for lunch since you two are obviously going to be busy?" As Gibbs got out of the elevator and started away, Tim realized he had forgotten something, "Need anything, Boss?"

"Coffee if it's on the way. If not, then I'm fine."

The doors closed as he heard Gibbs turn down the music in Abby's lab. He knew there was a ridiculous smile plastered across his face, but he didn't have the desire to wipe it off as he basked in the information Gibbs had pointed out.

His boss was very perceptive and in all likelihood, he was right.

xoxo

Ziva had a moment to consider that she could actually get used to this whole desk duty thing as she finished drying off from her shower and went in search of her clothes. Tony had gathered what she wore to the office that morning from wherever he threw it half an hour ago and folded it neatly on the bed. She smile at the contrast of neatly folded clothes and horribly rumpled sheets and blankets.

He had been out of the shower before her, not wanting to start things up again. They only had an hour for lunch. While they had figured out it was enough time for a quick trip home to bed, it definitely was not enough time to go back to bed again.

She finished getting dressed and smoothed the material of her shirt before meeting Tony in the kitchen where he had made them some sandwiches.

She smiled at him and he gave her a curious look as she leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. All the little things he did for her made her so deliriously happy. Just the thought of how happy she was made her itch to go for a run, try and reign in the feelings before they got too out of control.

They really only had enough time to eat their sandwiches in silence and get back to the car and back to work. Traffic at lunchtime was always horrendous, but as they neared the office everything started to look open and clear.

They made it back to the Navy Yard in record time, at least record time for Tony driving.

Because they had a few minutes, Tony found a parking spot off in a corner. When he turned the car off she reached for the handle to get out, but he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

"Ziva," she could tell he was nervous about something, but instead of saying anything more, he leaned towards her as he guided her to meet him in the middle and took her lips in a soft kiss.

She thought it was odd that the kiss was so gentle and sweet. It caused a completely different reaction in her body than his kisses had caused just forty minutes ago. Her stomach tightened as she thought about how hard being in a relationship was when she actually cared about whether she hurt the other person.

He pulled back from the brief contact to gaze into her eyes as he moved his hand up to cup her face. His thumb ran over her cheek and she felt the warmth in her growing. Perhaps she could admit to herself that Tony did make it a lot easier to handle all the new feelings and insights.

Still there was a lingering doubt and some apprehension for where they were headed. She seemed to want to spend all her free time with him and she had to admit that it was getting harder and harder.

Actually spending time with him was getting easier every day, but the thoughts in her head were getting harder to ignore. It was harder to keep the thoughts from spilling out of her mouth when he did sweet things like folding her clothes for when she got out of the shower, making her feel at home

As he brushed her lips with his again, she was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she almost missed his request. "If I fall," he started on a husky whisper, "can you let me down easy?"

Her breath caught in her throat at the song reference, thinking back to last week when they had spent an entire day listening to music and playing board games.

For some reason they had settled on country, though for the life of her she would never have pegged him for a fan.

She had asked about it, "I thought you were a Jazz man?"

Tony had given a self-conscious chuckle, "I like most music." He seemed to contemplate it a moment, "Not rap or opera, but just about everything else."

"But country music? I never would have thought that."

He had shrugged, "I like the songs; they all seem to have a story or some kind of meaning and message behind them."

She had found herself listening to the lyrics more closely. Not that the songs were new to her. She had always had a penchant for country music herself amongst her tastes for various Israeli artists and some light alternative rock and not so sugary pop music.

They had heard the song he referenced as they were playing a game of cribbage and she had felt her eyes immediately drawn to his face as he huskily sang along in a quiet tone.

Her mind flitted back to the lyrics of the song he was referencing and her heart started racing at the implications implied with his soft tones. She kept her eyes on his, fighting the urge to shift them away to glance at the door to her right.

She couldn't find the words to respond, no matter how much she wanted to say something. She really didn't know what to say. She felt her mind and heart warring over different answers.

She didn't like feeling this connection to someone else, this reliance, this heavy burden to keep and protect another person's heart.

At the same time, she couldn't stop the smile that graced her face. She had been worried since the beginning that he would push the L-word on her before she was ready, but she had to admit this was more Tony.

She would have to be blind not to see his heart on his sleeve and his fear that she would turn from him written in his eyes. This simple request, voiced as a pre-emptive question was just another example of how much he was putting himself out there, too.

Another song from that night started playing through her head as she thought of how he had pulled her up from the floor to dance to the up-tempo music.

She realized she had been quiet for several minutes and saw doubt flash across his eyes due to the delay in her response.

She finally found her voice as she gazed into his eyes. Her voice was soft as she sang her heart's response quietly, "Baby, it's a long way down."

His eyes lit up as he gave her that brilliant smile that made her stomach flutter as he leaned in for a kiss that was quickly getting out of control. She pulled away from him and placed a hand on his chest to keep him from coming back.

"Work." She said simply and he looked around as if he had forgotten they were in the garage at the navy yard.

He gave her one more gentle kiss and then pulled away to step out of the car.

She couldn't move just yet as she thought about the repercussions of what they had both just said to each other. No, they hadn't used the words, not the traditional ones, anyway, but the intentions behind those words were taking them down a path that she was certain neither of them had gone down before.

She wasn't scared though, and as she felt her door open next to her, she looked up into Tony's eyes and took the hand he offered. She stood on her toes to give him a slow kiss before they let the real world filter back into the private bubble they had created.

They pulled away and maintained a professional distance as they entered the building. It was either unusually quiet or they were in their own worlds as they made their way up to the office.

Her mind was still reeling with the veiled revelations they had in the car. It was as close to a serious conversation about their feelings and the future as they had ever gotten.

It was strange that words stolen from a song she had only heard once could inspire such a strong unequivocal reaction in her. She wished she could take him back home now, but instead they boarded the elevator to go back to work.

When he leaned over and gave her a gentle kiss in the silence of the elevator, she could hear her heart in her ears. She wondered how he could kiss her with such tenderness that he seemed to tell her a million words with a single warm caress of his lips against hers.

She actually felt her eyes fog up a little with the delight that his slow ministrations brought up in her. She had never thought she would find this happiness with another person, never thought herself worthy of it. He made her feel worthy of the brilliant joy they were experiencing together, even though she sometimes let negative thoughts take over her mind.

He never pushed her and he let her have her space when she wanted it. She had to admit the need to run from him was more and more infrequent every day she spent with him. He made her feel things she hadn't ever imagined and while scary, it was also thrilling.

Tony pulled away and she felt the loss of his heat immediately as he moved away from her. The elevator doors opened and they walked into the eerie silence of the bullpen. Every TV on the floor seemed to be tuned to a single channel and people had gathered silently around each set. Some were staring with open shock on their faces, others with horror. The only sound in the entire room seemed to be occasional sobbing.

With confused expressions, Tony and Ziva moved up behind McGee at one of the plasma screens. When her eyes fell on the screen she couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her mouth and she instantly felt Tony's hands grab her shoulders and pull her back into his chest.

The screen was filled with chaos, flames and destruction with the skyline of Washington DC behind the earth-shattering image of rubble and devastation.

She saw the shocked faces of men, women, and children running past the news camera. They didn't seem to know where they were going, but they were running quickly to get there.

The shot changed to a helicopter view panning over the destruction and rivers of people mobbing the street and running in all directions away from the obliterated crumbling structure that used to be the J. Edgar Hoover FBI Building.

xoxo


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Tony nearly collapsed under the weight of the shift in emotion. He had gone from warm and tender to a sudden burning anger mixed with fear and a growing sense of horror.

His brain seemed intent on escaping the sudden graphic violence. He instantly flashed through what had brought him to this spot where he was holding Ziva in the middle of the bullpen.

Tony had made a couple of sandwiches in his kitchen while Ziva finished getting ready to go back to work. She had walked out and upon seeing him, he watched her eyes soften and a sweet smile graced her face before she leaned in to give him a soft kiss on the cheek.

When she brushed her lips across his cheek, he had a sudden flash of domesticity. This was something that men and women all over the world did every day. Something normal people did, not something Ziva did.

Her cute little smile, though he was sure she would kill or maim him if he used that word towards her, had called up something in him that he had been trying to ignore. Her gentle kiss, completely devoid of the normal sexual energy that drove most if not all of their contact had pushed that thought further to the forefront of his mind.

The drive back to the navy yard was uneventful, though he did feel like reaching over to take her hand in his. His head was spinning with thoughts from that single sign of affection.

They were not an overly demonstrative couple, though until today he had actually even avoided using the word 'couple' in his thoughts about them.

Their touches seemed to be based more in a physical interest than a romantic one, something that would lead them back to the bedroom. Over the past week, they had shifted from touches that had intentions to touches that just seemed to be for no reason at all.

Mostly he initiated the purposeless contact. She would lay her head on his shoulder during a movie, or give him a neck rub when he fell asleep with her on the couch and woke up sore. That was about the extent of her initiating contact that wasn't about sex.

On the other hand, he had found himself doing just about anything to touch her. Regardless of the situation or whether it would lead to any kind of passion. He just seemed not to be able to keep his hands to himself. He would brush her hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear. Tony found himself running a hand down her arm as he passed her in the hall, or dropping a kiss on her head while she was reading in a chair. It had become a habit to join her on the couch, grab her legs and swing them onto his lap so he could work the tension out of her calves after a run.

Being the one who seemed to have that constant need for physical contact, the constant desire to remind himself that she was there and this was real, had been something he'd gotten used to.

He had finally convinced himself that she was a more reserved person than he was. Had finally convinced himself that it was enough for her to let him make these simple gestures that he didn't need her to make them back.

Then she had walked out, given him a sweet smile and leaned up to kiss his cheek before eating her sandwich. He was nearly floored by the simple gesture and he couldn't stop his mind from throwing every thought and feeling he had been reserving back at him in waves.

He wasn't sure how they made it back to the office; he didn't seem to be in control of his actions as he stopped her getting out of his car.

He was scared of the words that wanted to fall out of his mouth.

As he kissed her in the elevator afterwards, he was still a little in shock. Not only had she not laughed at him for his inability to actually say what he was feeling, but she also followed his lead into the ridiculous world of pinning feelings and thoughts, fears and wants on the lyrics of a song.

As he pulled away from the tender kiss, his mind was still spinning with the quiet confessions and requests for each to take care with the other's feelings. He knew this type of relationship was as new for her as it was for him. He also knew that the real words most other couples used were often said when they weren't really meant.

Tony felt a sudden wave of nausea as his mind came back to the sight in front of him. He could feel Ziva trembling against his chest. He supposed the sight of a building blown up in front of her was probably not new considering her past, but it was obviously not something one ever got used to.

Tony finally let his gaze shift from the screen and he saw the hard set of Tim's jaw. Tony noticed a flicker of movement from McGee's hand and looked to see him hitting the 'call' button, a few seconds later hitting the 'end' button. Over and over again, he hit call, end, call, end.

Tony reached out a hand and clamped it reassuringly on Tim's shoulder. The younger man jumped and shot a glance in their direction as if just noticing that he wasn't alone. None of them seemed inclined to speak, but after a moment, Tim relaxed under Tony's reassuring touch.

Tony couldn't tell how long they all stood there, transfixed by the disturbing images in front of them.

The southwest corner of the J. Edgar Hoover building looked demolished from the ground floor to the roof.

Where there weren't flames licking at the building, the jagged edges of the open floors were clearly visible where the explosion had ripped through the walls and crumbled them. Papers fluttered to the ground and they watched in horror as the teetering edge of an office on the top floor finally gave way due to the structural damage and not having any floors left under it.

The errant chunk of office crashed against the jagged edges of already demolished corner of the building, causing more debris to break loose and fall to the ground.

The large chunk hit with a shock that shook the news camera that was some distance from the destruction. The cloud of dust kicked up by the falling debris blocked out the image causing the station to switch to an overhead view of the devastation.

A sudden loud whistle drew their eyes up to the steps that lead down from MTAC, and the three looked up to see Gibbs pull his fingers away from his mouth. He was standing on the landing next to Director Vance.

As Gibbs spoke, it became clear that he was taking lead on this situation, with the entire room full of teams giving him their attention.

After Gibbs finished his speech indicating he wanted everybody to gear up and get down there to help with the rescue and investigation, the office broke into a flurry of activity as he joined their team.

"McGee, get Abby to start going through the video surveillance of the area." He turned towards Tony and Ziva, only giving the slightest raise of his eyebrows from the sight of him holding her in the middle of the office.

Neither seemed inclined to move or separate, so he continued, "Your ears broken? Grab your gear and get down there."

He was met with twin looks of confusion, before they both seemed to snap into gear and move to their desks gathering their guns and badges.

Sure, they were still supposed to be on desk duty, but this was all hands on deck. Certainly, their doctors would understand the extenuating circumstances.

McGee's heart was racing, but he couldn't pull his eyes off the screen.

He couldn't stop looking at the faces of everyone who passed the camera. He couldn't stop his hands repeatedly dialing even when he knew there would be no answer. Straight to voicemail, at least fifty times in the last several minutes.

He didn't think he even blinked until he felt the sharp pain of a swift smack to the head. He pivoted as he felt the situation crashing around him. His tenuous hold on reality had slipped from that simple gesture and he felt the last of his sanity fall away as he heard Gibbs say, "Snap out of it, McGee, we got work to do here."

He felt the a burning rage pulse through his body as he raised his hands, planted them on his boss' chest and forcefully shoved Gibbs out of his space. Gibbs took a few steps back from the sudden violent reaction and stood there, glaring at the young man as if trying to figure out his sudden shift in emotion.

Tim's eyes drifted from Gibbs, he didn't seem to have the words to respond and couldn't look him in the eye anymore. The man seemed to be able to read a person's soul and he didn't want his on display just then.

His eyes shifted around the room until he locked gazes with Tony, watched recognition sweep the other man's face, and then as if not really in control of what was happening around him he watched without being able to move as Tony stepped between him and Gibbs before the physical action got out of control.

Tony positioned himself with his back to Gibbs, prime head-slapping position should Gibbs take umbrage with Tony interfering.

He braced a hand on Tim's shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze. He couldn't help a small shudder at the open despair in the younger man's eyes. Reaching down, Tony grabbed the phone out of his hand, and glanced at the screen.

What he saw made his blood run cold. "Where is she?" Tony asked in a voice that was a little more harsh than he had intended it to be as he recognized sixty-four outgoing calls to Abby, all unanswered.

The tone seemed to snap McGee out of his shock and he started speaking, words tumbling out of his mouth quickly and running together as Tony guided him towards his desk and away from the TV, though Tim's eyes didn't leave the screen the entire time. "She called after I placed the lunch order, said she would pick it up because Gibbs needed me for something." his eyes flitted back to the screen, "She went to Via Cucina."

Tony let his gaze follow Tim's to the TV screen where just along the edge of the camera angle they could see the building across the street from where the blast had impacted.

Across the street on the western side of the FBI building where most of the damage from the blast was evident, was Via Cucina. The glass was blasted out of all the windows and the stone wall, once smooth, were pitted with damage and impact of debris from the explosion.

The Via Cucina sign was teetering on the building, swaying in the light breeze and looking as if it may fall at any moment. Words stuck in Tony's throat as he caught sight of the wreckage from this peripheral angle and willed the camera operator to pan left so they could see the building where their friend had gone.

Instinctively he grabbed him more firmly around the shoulders and pulled him into a strong hug. After what he had finally admitted to himself and Ziva just a few short minutes ago, he could only imagine what must be going through McGee's mind.

The hug was brief, after which Tony firmly deposited the stricken man in his chair, rolled him to his computer and gestured at the screen. "Get the surveillance shots, and run a trace on her phone, maybe you'll come up with something."

Tony turned back to see that Gibbs seemed to be warring with himself on what to do next. It would have been frightening to think their boss didn't have a clue about what to do if it weren't for the fact that thoughts were warring in Tony's brain trying to reign in the errant ones. He forced himself to focus on the matter at hand.

Feeling a sudden irrational tranquility and presence of mind Tony strode over to his desk grabbed his jacket and gestured for Ziva to move with him. As they waited with several other officers for the next elevator Tony called back to Tim, "We'll check that building first; call us if you get anything."

With that, they had loaded the elevator and left the other two men hovering over the computer at McGee's desk with blank expressions.

xoxo

A/N: Thanks for taking the time to read. Let me know what you think. I have already started on chapter 6, but it will probably be a day or two before I'm done with it.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Gibbs was feeling useless again. Standing around watching Tim manipulate the various traffic camera's near the J. Edgar Hoover building.

He felt sick as he saw a distant shot of a red pickup with a canopy pull in towards the parking garage on the west side of the building. Suddenly the truck turned right, surpassing the barricades of cement planters that separated the street from the sidewalk.

As they watched, the truck continued accelerating towards its destination without concern for the pedestrians clogging the sidewalk during the lunch hour. Most of the people walking along the sidewalk were able to run or jump out of the way, but some were not as fortunate and were mowed down the half a block from the parking garage entrance to the south side of the building.

As they watched, the truck plowed into the door on the southwest corner of the building and almost immediately exploded. The camera was about a block down the street, but the concussion of the blast knocked the camera off kilter and they were suddenly watching the ground.

"Can we get a better shot on that? Pull up a license plate?" Gibbs asked and immediately Tim seemed to stiffen.

It was another moment before Tim cleared his throat and spoke, "I don't have the programs for that up here."

Gibbs placed a hand on Tim's shoulder, understanding exactly what Tim was saying, "Let's go, then."

Tim hesitated, "Uh, Boss, Abby doesn't like people messing around in her lab."

He heard McGee's voice break over Abby's name and he couldn't help feeling his own bit of fear, but he pushed it down. There was nothing they could do for her that dozens if not hundreds of law enforcement officers and medical personnel weren't already doing. It was either too late, God he hoped not, or she already had all the help she needed it.

All they could do from here was find some answers.

"You know you're not just 'people' to her, Tim." McGee did not seem capable of meeting his eyes just then. "Go down there and get us some answers." Gibbs grabbed his badge and gun, and headed to the elevator with McGee trailing behind him. "Call me if you get something, anything at all."

Gibbs rode the lift down with McGee and when the doors opened, he watched him walk into Abby's lab as if lost in a fog.

Before the doors closed him back in the elevator to head up to the parking garage, Gibbs called out to Tim, "I'll tell her it was an order."

He saw relief flash briefly across McGee's face before he disappeared into the recesses of Abby's lab. Gibbs knew the relief wasn't from Gibbs giving him an excuse to be out of trouble with Abby for touching her things or invading her lab. He knew it was more set on the positive message that Gibbs said he was going to find her.

Gibbs knew the kind of faith his young agent had in him and, as he started driving towards the center of destruction, he hoped like hell this wouldn't be the time he let the young man down.

He could tell there was nowhere McGee wanted to be more than down at the blast sight, but Gibbs couldn't let him come along.

It wasn't that he really needed him on the surveillance videos; they had plenty of people in the basement that could do the job.

It wasn't that he didn't think his agent could handle the emotional and physical drain he was certain they were all facing from a tragedy of this magnitude.

It was entirely, selfishly, that he couldn't watch the man fall apart if he got there and was not able to do anything to help her.

Gibbs knew exactly how long it had taken McGee to be willing to go down and even see Kate after she was killed. He had been hesitant and afraid and even afterwards he was shaken up, and they had just been co-workers, friends. If that man had to watch the woman he loved die or see her dead, even after the fact in anything other than a funeral ready state, he wasn't sure the entire team could hold the man together.

He knew exactly what losing Shannon had done to him and he hadn't had to witness the aftermath first hand. If that happened to his young agent, he was sure he would lose the man. Tim was a unique personality. Even after all these years, he was still caring and perhaps a little bit innocent despite being surrounded by corpses every day.

He had to park nearly a mile away due to the police barricades in the roads, but the walk would give him a chance to clear his mind and collect himself.

xoxo

Tony had let Ziva drive, not trusting himself behind the wheel as his thoughts swirled around the shocking events of the day. He still felt nauseous, but the overwhelming urge was finally abating as they got out of the car and started walking towards the devastation.

They flashed their badges to pass the barricades that had been quickly erected. They put them on clear display, Tony's tucked into his belt, Ziva's off the front pocket of her shirt. Ziva set a quick pace and he managed to keep up as they rounded the corner and caught a firsthand glimpse of the damage.

At least a quarter of the towering J. Edgar Hoover building was reduced to rubble around the ground, crowding the streets, blocking access to survivors still trapped inside from this direction.

Tony forced himself to think of the survivors to will away the thoughts of those they would be unable to help. Still over half a block away, they could see the bodies scattered across the street and sidewalk, bodies mixed with rubble that snapped Tony's mind back to what they had told Tim they would do as soon as they got there.

Unfortunately, for the sake of their promise, as they passed the FBI headquarters a police officer grabbed them, gesturing towards a large hunk of cement that was currently pinning and crushing another man's leg.

With their help, the officer was able to pull the man free of the wreckage and drag him a safe distance away from any more falling debris. The officer thanked them and they started to make their way towards the Via Cucina building again.

They were stopped again by a fire fighter who was kneeling next to a woman that was bleeding through a large gash in her leg. He literally had his fingers inside the woman's leg as he reached with his other hand tried to grab something out of his bag.

Ziva knelt down and waved Tony to keep moving as she assisted the firefighter, helping as he clamped off the bleed. Once the bleeding was slowed, she assisted him in getting the woman moved to a section that was obviously the high-risk portion of the triage.

She could tell from the pale skin and unfocused eyes that some of those people would not be there in a few short minutes if they did not make it on an ambulance and get to the hospital soon.

There seemed to be a steady stream of emergency vehicles pulling in, loading up and pulling away, but as fast as they would haul them off the rescue workers would pull another two or three from the wreckage.

Ziva's eyes scanned the rubble, trying to filter out the feelings this familiar chaos evoked in her. She fought the urge to run from the sights, sounds and smells that brought her right back to digging through the debris of a much smaller building looking for her little sister all those years ago.

Digging until her fingers bled. Digging until her hands touched mangled flesh, until concrete was moved enough to uncover the pale lifeless face of her sweet innocent sister. Brown hair caked in blood and head twisted sickeningly, turned nearly fully around from the broken neck

She moved over to help the EMTs loading the most critical onto the ambulances, gathered a few medical supplies off the truck to assist with the triage as best she could with her limited knowledge of medicine.

She had plenty of battlefield experience with tending wounds. She had learned very early on how to determine if it was even worth the time to treat certain injuries as they would be fatal regardless of what you did to try and help.

She happened across a young man in just that predicament a few short minutes later.

His gaping chest wound was causing blood to bubble from him mouth as his body was wracked with coughing. She knew there was nothing she could do for the man, but as she walked past, he grabbed her arm with a surprisingly strong grip.

"Please," he coughed out, gargling as he nearly suffocated at the gesture of even trying to talk.

She didn't know what to say as she stared down at him. Was he looking for reassurance that he would be all right? Did he want her to stop and help him when it was futile to even try? He was dead as soon as the shrapnel tore through his body and there was nothing that anyone could do for him.

"Please," he choked out again, squeezing her arm painfully as he fought another coughing fit, "Please tell my wife I love her."

Ziva felt his hand relax and fall away from her arm as he took his last shaky breath. Ziva felt a strange sense of pride in this stranger's strength. He had fought to live long enough to know he wouldn't leave without telling the woman in his life one last time that he loved her.

Ziva took a moment to pull the man's wallet out of the pocket of his torn and tattered pants.

She set his name and address in her memory, but thinking that what lay ahead was surely a long day, she pulled her phone out and snapped a picture of the ID just in case. Securing the ID back in his pocket for identification later she began moving back through the throngs of seriously injured, trying to determine where best to lend a hand.

She still had her phone in her hand when a sudden thought came to her.

Ziva dialed and waited through several rings before she heard the calming brogue of Ducky on the other end, "Are you and Palmer, busy?"

"Not at all, we are waiting for instructions, but it appears Jethro left a while ago and must have forgotten to let us know if there was anything we should be expecting."

Ziva sighed, "It is very unpleasant here, Ducky." He commented in the affirmative and she continued, "Have Palmer gas the truck."

"Do we have a body?" he asked with concern, apparently he had heard about Abby being in the vicinity and not yet located.

She was quick to reassure him that was not the case, "Lots of them, Ducky, but not to autopsy, we need you as an ambulance today. Are you equipped for that?"

"We will stop by the naval hospital on our way out and get a few things." There was a short pause, during which she thought that perhaps he had hung up. She was about to end the call when she heard him add, "Thank you for calling us, we were feeling a little useless down here."

xoxo

Tony kicked himself for leaving Ziva behind. He couldn't stop the worried thoughts as he made his way through the sea of emergency personnel. What if another piece of the building broke off or something crashed down and trapped her. He pushed the 'what ifs' aside. She was the strongest woman he knew, if something happened she would find a way to protect herself even if all she had was a hair clip.

He let his mind shift back into gear as he quickly made his way towards the restaurant. It took everything in him to keep walking as he passed the bodies lining the streets, mangled and burnt.

He was in the middle of the street, but the rubble made it nearly impossible to reach the building he was trying to get to. Weaving fully across the street to avoid the pile of building debris and bodies he came back around the restaurant from the other side.

The damage to the restaurant was worse than the pictures on TV had shown. The door was blocked by the awning that had collapsed from a large hunk of concrete crashing through the small columns that had been holding it in place. Via Cucina appeared deserted as Tony made his way through the wall of windows, scanning the large main room for signs of activity.

Tony could see several spots where blood had been spilled on the floor, but he didn't see any bodies. Tony stepped cautiously into the space, darkened by what was probably a localized power outage so that the only light was what was filtering through the missing windows.

He slowly made his way towards the counter, side stepping several toppled tables and chairs. As he rounded another table, he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye. He turned to confirm he had actually seen the bright flames against black leather.

He knew that shoe. Who else would come into Via Cucina in four-inch platform boots with red and orange flames? He felt the nausea rise again as he noted the unnatural slant of the boot. The sole of the shoe was folded up towards the laces, but there was no movement.

He didn't see the other foot, though considering the angle of the left shoe that he could see; the other should be clearly visible from here. He felt the breath catch in his throat as he made a move to step forward. Before he could force himself to move closer and determine what condition the rest of his friend was in, the sandwich he had been trying to keep down since he first saw the J. Edgar Hoover building in flames decided it wasn't going to stay down any longer.

He tore back out of the building, grabbed the edge of the window he had just jumped through to keep himself upright, and felt his body heave. He couldn't stop the nausea that rolled through him as he threw up on the sidewalk.

The sharp shards on the windowpane cut into the palm of Tony's hand, but he couldn't bring himself to stand up or release his grip on the only thing keeping him upright, as the world seemed to tilt under his feet.

xoxo

A/N: I have found my inner drive pushing stronger and have several future chapters and plot points flitting around in my head. I know I said I would update every two or three days, but there's a good chance it will be one or two days instead of two or three. I'm sure that's not too disappointing. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, more details on Abby coming in the next chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

It took McGee less than five minutes to pull the license plate number, run it through the database and find out it was a dead end. The truck had been reported stolen that morning.

Another three minutes later and he had irrevocably scarred his brain with an image that sent him flying out of the lab and up to the parking garage.

He had started watching different angles that would give him a shot of the people coming and going to the building across the street just before the blast went off. He spotted her immediately, walking with a happy spring in her steps.

He watched Abby go into the building and felt tears spring to his eyes as he noted the time stamp on the video. She had less than two minutes to get in and out before the truck hit and the bomb went off.

She had approached from the opposite direction of the J. Edgar Hoover building, so if she made it out quickly she could make it to safety before the damage hit. Tim knew that restaurant at lunchtime, and there was no way she could make it in and out in two minutes. Even that knowledge could not pry his eyes away from the screen.

She was still inside when he spotted the truck in the far background of the video footage. He watched it plow into the building and erupt in a giant fireball. From this angle, he could see the entire aftermath of the explosion. He watched as the ball of flames tore into the building, the force threw everything in its path out and away from where the truck had been on impact.

Tim watched in horror as the large cement potters that lined the sidewalk around the FBI headquarters became giant shrapnel grenades, sending chunks and pieces towards the restaurant. One of the larger pieces of concrete struck to twin columns out front of the Via Cucina, ripping through the stone pillars as if they were paper and sending the awning smacking against the front of the building.

Other pieces of the planters, the truck, and probably the multitude of pedestrians on the sidewalk at that moment, were launched through the building, shattering the glass, some making it entirely through from one side to the other and tearing through the glass on the far side of the restaurant.

Watching the amount of damage the building took, the number of projectiles sent careening through the windows; all Tim could think about was where the lunch pick-up line formed. Just to the right of center, with only one row of tables between the call in order line and the window that had just exploded inward.

He couldn't take it anymore. Thoughts of her lying bloody and lifeless, thoughts of her hurt and unable to get help, thoughts of rescue teams overlooking the restaurant in lieu of the larger problem ran through his brain in a split second.

He had done everything Gibbs had asked him to do and he needed to get down there.

Racing out of the lab, Tim didn't even bother waiting for the elevator as he hit the stairs and tore off at full speed to the parking garage. He was glad, not for the first time, of his new fitness regimen as he skidded to a stop at his car, not even winded.

Turning the key harder than was actually necessary, Tim slammed the car in gear and peeled out of the parking structure.

xoxo

Ziva had been glancing in the direction of the restaurant. She watched Tony disappear inside and went back to helping load another critical patient in an ambulance. She had taken to pushing her will on the EMTs and started enforcing a 'no empty seats' policy.

While the paramedics took the critically wounded on stretchers, the seriously wounded who could sit up were shuttled into the passenger seat and another was loaded into the back to sit on the floor out of the way of the EMT should they need to work quickly on the critical patient. No, it was not ideal and she had to have a few very serious conversations with EMTs before she convinced them to bend the rules a little on this one.

There was no way they were going to get these people to the hospital fast enough for the critical to live and the serious to not become critical. Especially not if they took them all one at a time because that's how they had been trained to do it.

"Screw your rules." She had said to one particularly stubborn medical tech. She knew she was venting her frustrations at him and he was just trying to do his job the proper way, but at that moment she hadn't cared what he thought as he stood in the way of people getting the medical attention they needed. "If you do not take these two people with you I promise you I will find a way to make you take their place and I'll drive the damn bus back to the hospital myself."

The threat was clear and the man faltered under the intimidation. His partner, who was driving, got on the CB radio as they finished loading the passengers to pass word to the other drivers that they were to take as many patients as they could fit safely in their vehicles

As she watched them start to drive away and saw more people being loaded into each ambulance she suddenly hoped that there was enough staff on hand at the hospitals in the area to handle the onslaught of patients they would all be receiving.

Feeling as if she had at least been a little helpful in all this, she glanced back where she had seen Tony disappear moments before. She looked over just in time to see him leap out of a window on the far side of the restaurant and grip the frame tightly before bending forward and losing his lunch right there on the sidewalk.

Her brain went immediately to what he must have seen inside. Before she even knew she was moving, she had covered the distance to the restaurant and leapt over several piles of concrete to reach his side. He was standing there, hunched over, but no longer throwing up as she grabbed him and pulled him away from the building.

His breath was fast and unsteady; hyperventilating was a distinct possibility if he didn't take a moment to calm himself. She saw the blood covering his hand, as she pulled him to her briefly. She had a moment to wondered if it was his own, before he finally looked up at her.

This was a pain and despair, she hoped, her friends would never face. This wasn't a war torn country. They should never have to know, never see firsthand this kind of senseless destruction and violence.

The deep sorrow in Tony's eyes cut straight to her heart as she leaned back to look him over briefly. That lost expression was all the answer she needed as she pulled him back to her tightly.

Abby had been their friend and while Ziva wouldn't actually believe her friend was gone until she saw the body herself, she still felt a tiny piece of her heart die in that moment as she held him.

xoxo

Gibbs knew the smell was something he would never get out of his head. It was similar, in ways, to the war zones he had been through, though where then there had been the smell of filth and unwashed enemy combatants, here he occasionally caught a whiff of a sweet perfume or cologne.

This was his home. This was not some god-forsaken third-world country with terrorists around every corner blowing the hell out of each other.

Gibbs was confident DiNozzo and Ziva were following through on their promise to McGee and was sure they would call if they got any information. He knew he would be no help across the street. While he was certain the smaller, less damaged, building would be well under control, he really had no desire to experience the depth of emotion he knew would overwhelm him if he lost her.

Abby was like a daughter to him. She was the light on his darkest days. If anything had happened to her, he would rather just wait for the information to be presented to him rather than come face to face with it live and in full gory color.

Choosing to forego the potential anguish awaiting him across the street, Gibbs had taken the east side entrance to the Hoover building. There were dozens of emergency personnel on the first floor, he found the second to be the same, as he reached the third floor he found the rescue workers were thinning. By the fourth floor, he noted that there only seemed to be a few combing through the debris looking for survivors.

He joined those men, keeping an ear out for any signs of life and watched the rescuer numbers become even less as survivors were carried out. Though not ideal, the dead were left where they had fallen. There was not enough time or hands for the living right now and the proper respect the dead deserved was not a possibility at the moment.

Gibbs set to work clearing each space systematically with the other rescue workers. As they finished clearing the floor, Gibbs grabbed a paper and marker off the vacant desk nearest the main door from the stairwell and began scrawling a note before he crumpled the paper and instead wrote along the wall in the stairwell, '4th Floor: Survivors Clear' before they proceeded up to the fifth floor.

It looked deserted.

Apparently, either another group of rescue workers had cleared the area or the staff of the building had the presence of mind to grab their injured as they ran for their lives. Regardless, Gibbs instructed the three officers, two firefighters, two FBI agents and the lone NCIS agent who had helped him clear the fourth floor on the sections he needed them each to search.

The peripheral offices were all cleared quickly; they had not found any survivors throughout the first several offices.

Gibbs sent the NCIS agent and a couple others up to the next floor. They were to check on rescue staff up there and assist or begin as needed. He and one of the officers started through the offices on the southwest corner of the building, headed into the more demolished rooms destroyed by the impact of the blast.

As Gibbs opened a door, he saw out across the sights of Washington D.C. through the huge gaping hole of what used to be a federal office. A fine layer of dust and debris from the crumbling walls coated each surface in the room. File cabinets were blasted open from the force and papers were scattered everywhere along with the personal effects this agent had kept in their office. On the desk, there was a bobble head of a British Bobby cop, its head still bouncing from the reverberation of the explosion.

Gibbs took note that the desk was largely undamaged, but the chair had been toppled. He signaled the officer with him to hold back as Gibbs carefully made his way towards the edge of the room.

The drop off from this height of five stories would likely result in death so he was sure to keep his distance from the bomb damaged edges that seemed to be crumbling in front of his eyes.

As he crossed over to peer behind the desk, he saw a man's body hunched on the floor. The desk area was only inches from where the room now abruptly ended and Gibbs could not tell, for certain, whether the man lying on the floor of this office was unconscious or dead.

There was blood on his head and hands, but the charcoal grey suit jacket, ripped and tattered, was too dark for him to be certain whether there were further injuries. Gibbs allowed his eyes to travel down the man's body to note that he had lost one of his shoes in the explosion. His feet, one still in a dress shoe, the other clad only in bright striped socks, were dangling over the crumbling edge of the office.

Gibbs didn't know whether the man was breathing or not, but as he watched a small piece of the floor fall away, he knew he had to move fast. Taking a few gentle steps into the room, Gibbs finally reached the man. He saw the barest hint of breath as the unconscious man's chest rose and fell slightly.

Trying not to think about how closely he was standing to the unstable edge he grabbed the man under his arms and began dragging him to safety.

As he reached the door, Gibbs saw a flicker of movement around the far side of the desk. He laid the man down in front of the officer who took over to get the unconscious agent to safety.

Gibbs slowly approached to investigate the movement. As he cautiously stepped back towards the edge he caught a glimpse of brown hair blowing gently in the breeze as he watched another chunk of the floor fall away.

Gibbs felt the adrenaline pulse through his body as the floor creaked under his feet. There was barely a foot of space between the desk and the collapsing edge of floor; he had to act fast if he wanted the chance for whoever was lying over there to continue breathing.

The creaking and moaning of the floor got louder with each step he took. Calculating the options quickly, he decided to treat this like an ice rescue. He lay flat on the floor to distribute his weight as evenly as possible. He knew he wouldn't be able to jump and run if he needed to, but there was someone over there and he needed to get to them.

He inched forward, quickly, but cautiously until he saw the woman's hand twitch. The sign of life spurred him forward and he reached out to grab her hand just as a large piece of the floor fell away and suddenly she was falling.

Gibbs tightened his grip on her hand and maneuvered his other out to pull with the first. He had managed to scoot back enough to get her upper body onto the ledge of the room, before he heard a loud groan from concrete in the floor below him and felt the room start to shake.

xoxo

A/N: Wow, this is shaping up to be much longer than I expected, I hope you all enjoy a good long story, because we haven't even left the bombing site yet. There is still a lot of ground to cover.

Please do not flay me for leaving Abby out there in uncertainty, I know I'm being mean, but we just haven't made it to that part yet because my fingers keep throwing new ideas out there, should get there next chapter.

Yes, hello cameo appearance of Booth and Brennan, anyone who caught that from the socks and the bobble head, give yourself a pat on the back. You watch as much TV as me. I couldn't resist, couldn't have Gibbs in Booth's territory without throwing them in there. Gibbs sure will be in trouble if he drops Bones. ;)


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Gibbs felt sudden anxiety in the pit of his stomach followed quickly by a strong surge of adrenaline. He struggled to hold on to the woman in his grasp while simultaneously pulling her away from the crumbling edge of the room.

He managed to pull the rest of her up over the jagged edges before the floor collapsed beneath them. "Watch out!" he shouted, hoping those under the crumbling office floor would hear him from five floors up and move out of the way of the debris that was falling and the larger pieces that were sure to fall if the sounds of the creaking floor were any indication.

The woman's pantsuit was in tatters from the rough edges of concrete he had to drag her limp body over as he rapidly backed up on his knees. He allowed himself a moment of pause to adjust and rise to his feet. He grabbed her more securely before backing towards the shattered glass door and he watched as the spot where they had just been, crumbled beneath them.

He had a moment's pause to hope there were no workers or injured beneath the collapsing office as he saw the floor fall away and the desk begin to teeter dangerously over the edge.

He followed the officer out to a more secure section of the office before laying the woman down near the man he had pulled out of the same office moments before. While he still appeared dazed, the man's eyes had opened and he was looking around with a confused expression.

Gibbs and the officer began looking over them both for any blatant signs of serious injury before they started to move them out of the building.

The bleeding that the man was experiencing, while messy, was minor and the woman didn't seem to have any outward signs of injury other than being unconscious.

Any internal issues or broken bones would have to be dealt with once they woke fully and got to the hospital.

The man caught sight of Gibbs and then his eyes drifted to where Gibbs was examining the woman, "Bones." He croaked out, sounding much like he had just woken up in the morning, a voice horse and raspy from breathing the dust and detritus from the blast.

Gibbs let his attention shift to the man, "Anything broken?" he asked, not following the comment. He watched, as the agent seemed to test each of his limbs while simultaneously feeling his torso.

"No, I think I'm OK." He said hesitantly as he tried to sit up and almost fell over again, before catching himself on his outstretched arms. He gave a little self-conscious chuckle as he breathed a few slow shallow breaths. "Chest hurts, head, not so great."

After a moment he asked, "What the hell happened?"

As the man composed himself enough to unsteadily rise up to his feet, Gibbs filled him in on the barest of details. He watched the horror sweep the younger man's features, and knew that was probably a common reaction across the whole city if not the country today.

Gibbs grabbed the woman, one arm behind her legs, the other behind her shoulders and lifted her, feeling his knees give a minor protest at the movement.

With an arm around the shoulders of the Officer who had helped him up, the injured man seemed to be steady enough to walk out of here with help. They were moving at a very slow pace as they crossed the offices towards the stairs.

"Special Agent Booth." The man introduced himself, and instinctively reached for his badge, which appeared to have been misplaced in the chaos of the day.

"Officer Dane Seward." The policeman helping him slowly towards the main stairwell had responded.

Agent Booth glanced back at Gibbs just behind them, "That's Dr. Brennan." He finally pulled his eyes off her face after staring at her head bobbing back and forth across the crook of Gibbs' shoulder, "and you are?"

"Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS." He responded as they reached the stairwell. Gibbs leaned awkwardly against the wall using it to help him hold Dr. Brennan up as he pulled the marker from his pocket and wrote '5th Floor: Survivors Cleared" across the wall.

"She's OK, right?" Booth inquired, but Gibbs didn't have an answer for him.

Officer Seward started to recount the bravery of her rescue and Gibbs was tempted to head slap the policeman for putting a fresh shade of pale onto the face of the man they were trying to rescue.

He watched Booth falter on a step as he the officer told him that the brown haired woman had been inches from falling to her death. His palm itched with the urge to slap the officer, wishing he would just focus on getting them out of here instead of doing other things that would distract the man.

They had made it down two flights of stairs before he felt the woman in his arms suddenly stiffen. "What's going on?" her voice was evenly tempered, her tone matter of fact.

"It's alright, Bones, just try to relax. We're almost outside." Booth replied.

Gibbs saw the smile they shared as Booth looked backwards and he instantly felt her relax again in his arms. That was probably her best bet, because he was a little old to be carrying a woman down a flight of stairs if she was going to be moving around and being tense.

"Well, couldn't I walk there?" she asked again in a very even tone, this time with a hint of frustration. Gibbs was intrigued by her lack of emotion in a situation such as this, though he supposed it probably had more to do with having been unconscious and unaware of the situation than any kind of heartless disregard. He knew that note of frustration, however. He knew it came with a strong sense of self-preservation. He knew he could pin it on the feminist movement, but it wasn't just women that had trouble accepting other people's help. Even when they needed it.

Gibbs saw that the man they had rescued was about to say something in response and if that look in his eye was any indication he knew the man was trying to find a way to get her just to accept that she was taking the Gibbs elevator to the main floor.

He decided to interject for Agent Booth, "Let's not try to find out while we're still on the stairs."

He felt her shift her head off his shoulder as if taking in his expression, "That's a very logical decision." She replied, sounding vaguely robotic to him but inspiring a small chuckle from Agent Booth.

By the time they reached the first floor, Booth seemed to be walking under his own power and Gibbs was grateful to pass 'Bones', as the agent had called her, to Officer Seward to get them situated in the triage areas as Gibbs started back up the stairs for the sixth floor.

xoxo

Tim felt adrenaline coursing through his body as he barreled through the nearly deserted streets. He had been at least ten minutes behind Tony and Ziva. They had to have already arrived. Why hadn't he gotten a phone call yet?

Tim took the 12th Street Tunnel a little too quickly and nearly crashed through the barricades that stopped north and east bound traffic at Constitution Avenue. He was able to get the vehicle under control before breaking through and came to a completely ungraceful stop. He found a convenient sidewalk to illegally park on and hoped his Government plates would keep him from being towed. However, he could care less about that, at the moment, as he flashed his badge to the officer standing guard at the barricade. The policeman gave Tim a disapproving look, but McGee ignored it as he took off at a full run towards the FBI building.

It was still a few blocks away, but he was running as fast as his legs would carry him. He mentally kicked himself for following Tony's advice with the Italian dress shoes, though his usual office wear wouldn't have done much better as he skidded through grass areas to cut time off the run.

His heart was already pounding, lungs aching and legs screaming at him for his lack of stretching prior to the run he was putting his body through when he round the last building blocking his view of the damage.

Tim instantly stopped as his brain processed the mess of people, rescuers, bodies, rubble. The Hoover building looked worse in person than it had on TV and that was saying a lot considering the camera angles McGee had been able to pull up on it.

That's when he saw them, still over a block away but unmistakably Tony and Ziva.

If it was possible, Tim's legs began to move more quickly as he darted through emergency workers, hurdled debris, skirted ambulances pulling in or pulling away. He couldn't process what he was seeing from across the space and had to get closer.

Abby wasn't with them. That had been his first thought and it kept popping up between others as his oxygen deprived brain begged him to stop running but his adrenaline kept his feet moving briskly over the sight.

He almost crashed into a firefighter as he headed back into the FBI building, but McGee was able to avoid him at the last moment, mind still racing, trying to convince himself he wasn't seeing what he saw. He wasn't seeing Ziva comfort Tony outside the restaurant; he wasn't seeing blood all over Tony's hand and smeared across the back of Ziva's jacket. He wasn't seeing them stand together outside the restaurant, their lack of movement stark behind the bustling activity on this side of the street.

Tim watched as Tony and Ziva pulled out of a full embrace, hands still clasped and foreheads now resting together. He had almost made it to them when the stricken expression on Tony's face hit him and he saw the fresh vomit from one or the other on the sidewalk. He was right next to them before he was finally able to stop.

Speech still seemed to be a ways off as his mind and body warred.

His lungs were burning and protesting even the thought of speech while his mind tried to find something, anything to say that wouldn't end with an answer he didn't want to hear.

Tony's eyes met his and he couldn't stop the sudden shaking that overtook his body. With an abrupt movement, Tony grabbed Tim and pulled him in so he and Ziva could engulf him in a hug.

The shaking seemed to get worse as they didn't appear to want to tell him anything or be able to put words to the news he was now certain that they had for him.

He broke and his resolve fell away. There was no more hiding from the situation, no more wishing it away. This was real and from this position, he felt himself start sobbing into both Tony and Ziva's shoulders as he held Tim tightly from one side of him while Ziva stroked his hair like his mom had done when he'd been sick as a child.

He knew his sobbing was ridiculous, but he didn't seem to have the power to stop it and Tony wasn't taking the opportunity to tease or torment him for being too soft, which further solidified his grief and sent him spiraling down into the depths of despair.

He felt another gentle set of arms go around him from behind.

From the way Tony and Ziva's muscles, suddenly tensed Tim was certain this was some stranger or rescue worker who had thought this was a more universal grief session, rather than one that was about how Tim had just lost the most important person in the world to him.

He was ready to turn and tell whomever this was that it was a private moment and ask them to leave the group alone. He really didn't want anyone else to see him in this state of disarray, but as soon as he felt his mouth open for something other than to sob out her name, he heard the most beautiful sound he could ever remember hearing in the course of his entire existence.

The tone was reprimanding and demanding while also being stern. Tim couldn't believe that anything said in that tone sounded remotely like music, but this did. "Ok, that's enough standing around crying, come on guys, there's a lot to do."

Tim froze in place; unable to speak or move for fear that it would chase away the dream playing in his head right now. Tony seemed to sense his dilemma and reached up to his shoulders turning him to face her.

It was Abby, his Abby. He let his gaze sweep her from head to toe, instantly taking in the fresh gauze across her cheek, in the V-neck of her shirt, along both arms. He saw the torn clothes, blood caked into her hair and over her arms, the split lip, blossoming black eye. Then he detected the hint of impatience in her eyes and that was the defining moment for him.

As he looked into her eyes and saw impatience, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was real. She was real.

He finally seemed to snap out of whatever trance her standing in front of him had thrown him into and he pulled her close to his chest, feeling her warmth under his hands as he felt her breathing against his neck. Feeling her pulse under the hand he had firmly planted on her back, not letting her get away from him again.

He knew he was crying again, but he really didn't care at all this time. This time it was tears of joy.

He felt Tony and Ziva come around to envelope the two in a hug and Tim realized for the first time that he wasn't the only one crying.

Ziva's tears fell silently and Tony started stuttering through his own mess of crying, "But I saw you, I saw and there was with the foot and you weren't moving and dismembered legs with no right foot and."

Abby shook them off as she pulled away from them, "Wait. You thought I was dismembered?" She gave Tony a swift head-slap that rivaled even Gibbs, "That was just my boot, Tony."

Abby gestured towards her feet and Tim noticed for the first time she was in her gym shoes, which explained why she fit so perfectly into the crook of his neck a moment before.

"I took a piece of shrapnel to the platform, cleanly sliced off several inches on the bottom of one so I ditched them both and caught a piggy back ride away from the glass shards to go grab my gym shoes." She told the story as if it were some kind of everyday occurrence to nearly be blown to bits.

Tim watched the sudden realization hit Abby as her gaze shifted from Tony back to him, "Oh, Timmy." She said softly as if just realizing that he had been agonizing over her certain death.

She pulled him back to her and despite the fact that it had to hurt like hell with that split lip she planted a kiss on him that he curled his toes and further confirmed that she was living and breathing.

She was still with him and he hadn't lost her.

xoxo

A/N: Sorry it took so long to get back to Abby, I had to have all the players in place and they were not cooperating. This is how I saw this playing out from the beginning and I hope it was not too disappointing a conclusion to the mystery of the missing Lab Tech.

Sorry if I'm distracting you with the Brennan/Booth thing, their cameo is now over, though they may be mentioned later seeing as I have now introduced them, but without any bearing on the investigation. I think it's odd that Gibbs doesn't recognize his nephew, wink wink nudge nudge, or am I the only one who laughed at the fact that the same actor that plays Gibbs' dad plays Booth's grandpa and he almost burned down both of their houses?


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

As he was digging through a pile of rubble trying to determine if the person on the other end of this foot was alive or dead, Gibbs heard his phone trill in his pocket.

He knew who was calling. Knew it was his team. Knew they had news on Abby, but was not sure he wanted to hear it.

He excused himself, allowing Officer Seward in to take his place as he pulled out his phone.

"Gibbs." He answers with a little less surety than he normally does as he noted the caller ID is Ziva.

He doesn't have to wait long before he hears, "Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs!" from the other end of the line and gives a silent sigh of relief.

"Good to hear your voice, Abs." and it really was, especially after how many lifeless bodies he had pulled from under the piles of debris that littered every floor. "You're with Ziva; can I get a Sit-Rep? What's going on out there?"

"I'll put you on speaker." She said and he instantly heard the ambient background noise become louder.

"Sit-Rep?" he repeated.

The silence that greeted him was a sure sign that the agents were looking each other over, trying to decide who would go first.

Finally, he heard a small sigh of frustration followed by Ziva detailing the organization of the ambulances and the enlistment of Ducky and Palmer to play a part in shuttling patients to the hospitals.

She detailed her findings on the triage area and finished, "There is still much to do about organizing things over there."

"I got word from Vance that until a higher up in the FBI or homeland security comes along and takes over we're to coordinate the local rescue operation. So, you're in charge down there."

He heard what sounded like the phone being jostled as it was passed away and assumed Ziva had headed off to get to work.

"I got the results on the license plate." McGee began and Gibbs shook his head, frustration for his commands being disregarded would have been the normal order of things, but he knew he wouldn't have been able to keep Tim away from the scene. "It's a dead end, reported stolen this morning."

Gibbs wondered, "Got anything else?" which was met with a moment of silence.

"Not yet," Tim finally responded, "I started the facial recognition on the cleanest picture I could pull up of the driver and rerouted Abby's auto-alert to my cell phone, since hers was out of commission."

"Is Tony with you?" he hadn't heard the man yet and usually he was the most talkative.

"Here, Boss." DiNozzo responded, his voice sounded rough and gravelly.

"You and Tim, East stairs of the Hoover build, we're on the seventh floor."

"On it, Boss." He heard more shifting and then the background noise faded.

"They're on their way, up." Abby said, obviously having taken the phone off speaker.

"You alright?" he knew he was asking more than just her physical condition and from the long silence that followed he discerned that she had understood.

"I'm good, Gibbs, minor injuries. I'm feeling more lucky than anything." He heard the quiet tone and felt his heart break a little that any of his team had to experience this shocking situation, but more that it had to be Abby. "Lots of people aren't."

"Do you need to go back to the lab? Take some time?"

He didn't know how he formulated the mental image from the sounds he heard through the earpiece, but he just knew she was shaking her head back and forth, "No, I'm staying. We need every able pair of hands we can get down here."

Gibbs knew she was stubborn, so he fought the instinctive reaction of ordering her away in an attempt to shield her from the sights she was sure to witness.

Instead of directing her to leave the area, go back to the lab where she was safe, he threw her straight into the deep end, "Take Ziva's phone back to her and see what you can do to help her organize the outbound patients down there."

As he finally got off the phone with Abby, he saw DiNozzo and McGee approaching him through a long hall.

"We're clearing the last area now." Gibbs glanced back to where the workers had stopped digging through the rubble and moved away without a survivor, "We're moving up to eight." He said, loud enough for the other rescuers to hear. As he headed down the hall with his two agents, he heard the tired footfalls of the men following, after having dug for twenty minutes to find another lifeless body.

As he rounded the corner and stepped into the stairwell, he pulled out the marker to write the now familiar message across the wall.

They had been making good progress. His small band of rescue workers had grown to nearly two dozen and they were able to make their way through each floor quickly and efficiently.

He passed the marker to Tony once he had finished writing and filled his agents in on the progress they were making and pertinent details.

As the other rescue workers passed them, Gibbs put two fingers in his mouth and gave a loud whistle. He had their attention as he literally and figuratively passed his baton to Tony, "This is my Senior Field Agent Anthony DiNozzo. Tony is going to be taking my place while I go down and find evidence on the bastards that did this."

The others nodded and mumbled in agreement, as they began filing up the stairs again.

As Gibbs finished a brief run down, he turned to his agents. "None of this is pretty. It's getting less severe in these upper floors, but it is by no means going to be easy to stomach. Can you two handle this?"

He watched both men's backs get just a bit straighter as they nodded and started up the stairs. He would never be able to put into words the sense of pride he had in those two boys.

Gibbs knew they had seen and witnessed death on a daily basis in their jobs, but this was not the same as a single murder victim.

This was hundreds of people, Federal Agents, just like his team, who had been taken out in a single blow.

This was digging through death to find that small glimmer of life.

This was holding a hand and feeling it relax in your grip as death won out before you could get them free of the ruins, before you could stem the flow of blood, before you were able to do anything, leaving you feeling helpless and empty.

This was evil in its purest form and it evoked a special kind of helplessness that grew in the pit of your stomach until it overwhelmed every sense and rational thought you had.

He had a feeling the two men thought they knew what they were getting into, but no amount of mental preparation can equip a person for the overwhelming feeling of helpless in the face of extreme brutality and senseless violence.

xoxo

Ziva and Abby got into an easy rhythm, working together to get the triage area more clearly defined. Organizing the more critical and getting them ready for transport, keeping them stable.

Ziva took on the uncomfortable job of finding a few volunteers to move the people who didn't make it out of the area. As she noticed fear crossing the faces of the others still in that area she pulled Abby and the other couple people that were assisting aside and they set up a system.

As the critical passed away, they would take the discarded square wrappers from the gauze pads and place them discreetly over the left ankle of the deceased. This seemed to help as it gave the others an impression that the deceased were merely unconscious and after less than an hour, they realized that it was having a very positive affect on morale.

As people were carted out and hauled over, Abby kept inventory on the supplies at one point she borrowed Ziva's phone and called Ducky to see if he could bring some more from the hospitals.

The response was not favorable. The hospitals were keeping a close watch on their supplies because of the number of injured people overflowing into the hospitals.

Abby used Ziva's phone, found several pharmacies in the area and sent Ducky and Palmer to get supplies retail using Ducky's NCIS expense card.

As Ziva gave Abby her phone she moved to help in the less critical area where people were relegated if they had minor or non-life threatening injuries.

As she grabbed a fresh set of gloves and a box of equipment, her mind began to drift back to mission medicine. She was as talented as any nurse with a needle thanks to far more practice than anyone should ever experience. As she scanned the injured in this area of the triage, she was confident there was plenty of need for sutures.

She took a mental inventory before deciding on the heaviest bleeder and approaching the man. He was sitting on the grass, holding the sleeve of his dress shirt, ripped from the garment he was wearing, against the largest gash on his forehead.

"Can I take a look at that?" she asked and he obliged. Yep, he was definitely going to need stitches and probably more than she could give. "You have two options. I can butterfly that closed with some Band-Aids and you can hold your shirt on it a while longer; or I can put a few stitches in. It will help stem the flow, but you may need more stitches when the emergency rooms clear out a little bit."

The man looked to his side where a woman was lying down and she gave him a nod. "I need to get back in there and help. Stitch me up."

Ziva glanced at him, taking in his appearance and was certain this was the epitimy of the American Spirit she had heard about all her life. Willing to run back into a burning building because it was the right thing to do, regardless of the repercussions. She once again felt pride in her new homeland. Where her old homeland had been full of people who were always looking out for themselves first, this attitude solidified her choices to stay in America.

She let her gaze finish her inspection, "You do not even have shoes." She said in a matter of fact voice as she began readying her supplies.

The man called out, "After they stitch me up I need to go back in and help, anyone got a left shoe?"

There were several requests for a size and before she even had everything ready, he was holding a pair of shoes in his hands. They were passed through the group from someone who definitely wasn't going to be needing shoes for a while if the swelling in his knees was anything to go by.

"I do not have anything for the pain."

The man shrugged, "Just wash it up and get it over with. I'll close my eyes and pretend I'm back in the battlefield."

She smiled at him then, "That is exactly what I have been doing all day."

They shared a knowing smile and then she set to work. It was a lot easier than most of the people she had put stitches in today, or even in previous emergency battlefield situations.

He seemed to squeeze the woman's hand a little tighter at a few points, but otherwise he remained completely still and let her work.

Ziva taped the gauze pad on his head, placed butterfly bandages along another wound on his jaw and checked him over.

Satisfied that he was as bandaged up as he could be, and at least wouldn't bleed all over the people he was intent on helping to rescue, she packed up her things.

"Booth, is this a good idea?" the woman asked as he stood with a slight waver and began heading back towards the building.

"Probably not, Bones, but I can't just sit here."

Ziva watched the woman consider her friend before giving him a slight nod. He leaned down and kissed her head before disappearing into the chaos surrounding them all.

Ziva hadn't been simply agreeing with the man as she sewed him up, she really had reverted to a mission medicine mindset. That wasn't the only thing in her mind reverting back to her former mindset thanks to this tragedy.

She felt herself putting back up the barriers that she had worked so hard to break down up.

Old doubts and long buried notions of life had resurfaced and she felt herself fall into the old ways so easily that she wondered if she had ever actually left that part of herself behind.

She worked through the area, cleaned up and sealed any serious gashes, eventually noticing that she had a shadow. The woman she had met while tending to the shoeless man earlier had taken an interest in what she was doing.

"Is there something I can help with?"

As Ziva looked around, she reconfirmed there seemed and endless amount of things that someone could help with.

After making introductions, Ziva got the woman, working on taking care of this section of the triage. She had been slightly disappointed to hear that the title Doctor in front of the woman's name was not medical.

She gave Dr. Brennan her cell phone number in case she came across anything that needed stitches instead of more minor remedies and then headed back to grab her phone from Abby.

She reached the disheveled lab tech just as they saw Ducky and Jimmy pull up in the NCIS van.

With a sigh that was inspired more by frustration with her own brain than the actual work that lay ahead, she flagged down a couple of people to help them.

They needed all the help they could get to unload the bags of medical supplies Ducky had purchased from the local pharmacies and start restocking the various areas where supplies had started to run dangerously low.

Watching the number of injured, dead and dying grow with every passing minute, she couldn't help by feel the need to lock her heart away just a little bit more. Ziva knew she couldn't risk her real feelings coming to the surface or even acknowledging them in this situation, but she also couldn't help as her mind drifted to Tony while she packed supplies in the empty and nearly empty bags and distributed them to the various emergency staff.

Her chest hurt, though she was logical enough to know that wasn't where her actual feelings came from.

This day was too vivid, too real, and entirely too familiar.

Seeing the disorganized chaos and intolerable violence brought up all she had been ignoring about life and the indecency of people. Not all people, of course, but enough of them to screw life up for the rest of the world.

This day was not only a tragedy; she found it to be a disturbing wake up call.

She had been allowing herself to become attached, to feel normal, and to act as if she was just any other citizen living the American dream.

She was far from the normal person witnessing this tragedy.

She felt in a trance of automatic movements as she helped with the injured and watch loose debris fall off the building. She felt as if she were going through the motions and then a sudden thought struck her as she realized how easy doing these tasks came to her.

Perhaps the other parts of her life were just going through the motions. Doing the things, she thought she should be doing because they were the things other people did.

Perhaps this devastation and destruction was the only place she really was herself and the rest of her life was a lie she lived each day.

She felt her throat tighten as she realized that she wasn't supposed to do all the things everyone did and that's why the acts felt unfamiliar and strange as she tried them.

She wasn't supposed to love and be loved, she wasn't destined to settle down and have a house with a couple of kids and a dog. She wasn't the right kind of person to let anyone get close enough that what happened today would tear her apart as it had done.

She knew they hadn't lost Abby, she was looking at the woman right now, but at the same time, it was the thought that they could have.

They still could lose any member of their team on any given day and it would be one more death to weigh heavy on her soul.

What if it was Tony that she lost? Would getting so close to him this past month only cause her irrevocable harm if something were to happen to him? Moreover, what would come of his life if something were to happen to her?

She knew the man, had known him for so many years. She knew that he was quick to joke and easy to please, but he was hard to get to know and he kept people at a distance. Tony had lost his mother so young that he, much like her, had built up walls around his heart. How much longer before he was so wrapped up in her, in them, that he would be utterly lost if something happened to her?

She knew the man, and knew he loved deeply. As she set her mind and locked her heart away, she wondered if it was already too late for him to get out of this without adding further damage.

She knew it would hurt him, knew it would make her wish she had never said the words, but at the same time she set her sights on what would be the best bet for the long run.

She knew what she had to do, but it broke her heart just to think the thoughts, actually saying them aloud wouldn't only crush his spirits but her own as well.

xoxo

A/N: Ok, not my best work, but it has succeeded in moving us forward. Hope you are not as disappointed as I am right now, or perhaps I am just a little tired.

I will probably have the next chapter out later tomorrow; we'll get some facts about the bomb and the case next chapter as clean-up progresses. Update: Family just came into town, so unless I can get this written and edited in the next four hours I won't be getting the next chapter up until late tonight, possibly tomorrow. Sorry.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I posted Two Chapters yesterday; the second one in the same day does not update the story's order on the site. If you are not set up for alerts you probably didn't notice the extra chapter. If you are not 100% sure you read chapter 9, go back and check to see, otherwise you may be confused with what follows.

xoxo

Chapter 10

Tony was exhausted.

Somewhere amidst the digging, the blood, the bodies, the buried, night had fallen. Several local restaurants had brought down truckloads of food to refuel the rescuers.

There had been a few short breaks where the workers were able to grab a burrito or a slice of pizza before it was right back in to the uncirculated air heavy with sweat, dust and the acrid scent of blood.

Thanks to all the extra hands that showed up throughout the day, they had cleared the upper floors and now the rescue was centered on the first couple of floors and the underground levels where the most damage had occurred.

Tony and Tim had just finished digging out a woman who had been buried during the entire rescue.

Her upper body was out of the rubble, though she was thoroughly buried from her hips down and her legs were probably crushed beyond repair. Regardless of her situation, she had been in good spirits as they worked to clear the cement.

It took Tony, Tim and a couple of firefighters over an hour to move away all the smaller debris, but there was still a large chunk of cement, formerly a wall, covering the bottom of her body.

As the firefighters and Tim gathered some more help to lift the wall off her, Tony took on the much easier job of keeping her distracted, though she had made that very easy.

They had talked movies for the past half hour, and after a discussion on Casablanca, she began to tell Tony about all the places she was going to go and things she was going to do when she finally got out from under this mess.

"I've always wanted to go to Paris." She had said with a bright smile that completely took Tony out of the dirty, dark, smelly confines of this disaster for just a moment.

She went on about all the things she would see and do and even made a joke about not caring if she had to see it all from a wheelchair after this mess.

"Yeah, Lacey," Tony had smiled down at her, "I finally got to see Paris last year, and it's better than all the movies. You're going to love it there."

"I can't believe I put off all these things so long. I'm almost forty and I haven't done anything with my life but work myself to the bone." She said sadly.

"You'll make the time, now. Starting tomorrow, it will be a completely different life for you. Everything is beautiful when you see it through eyes you never thought you'd open again."

He gave her a wistful smile as he thought about the changes with him and Ziva after nearly dying in Miami. Of course, they had almost died several times before and hadn't lived their lives fully, but this time they were doing what they should have done all those times before. "I hope it doesn't take you as many near misses as it took me to realize that bit of knowledge."

"I'll just take the one, thanks."

Lacey became serious as the rescue workers surrounded the large slab of cement.

She was not excited to see the state of her legs once the wall was removed, but she kept her tone light as the multitude of rescuers gathered around her.

"This might hurt." One of the paramedics explained to her. "Blood flow may have been restricted to your legs and as it is restored any potential nerve damage will start to register."

Tony reached out to grab her hand. "Squeeze as hard as you need to." He said with a comforting smile and she laughed a little.

"It's ok," she responded taking his hand, "This will all be over soon and I can started on living my life instead of just passing through it every day."

The workers counted to three and lifted the slab in one swift motion, moving it up enough to adjust it to an already cleared area next to her.

Tony's breath caught in his throat as light from the emergency lamps moved into the space under the rubble. There was nothing beneath her hips and blood flowed from her like a river, spilling on the dust-covered floor all around her.

The wall had been restricting the blood from leaving her severe wounds and Tony finally let his gaze slip to her face as he felt her hand slack. He watched her go from smiling and healthy to completely pale in a matter of seconds, as everything in her body seemed to seep out where her legs had once been.

"What's going on?" she asked, "I don't feel any pain, I don't feel anything."

He couldn't speak as he glanced back and quickly away from the blood, slightly pink as it mixed with the thick grey dust covering everything.

He saw the moment that the pain reached her. Her face contorted and her eyes grew wide. "Tony," she croaked out in anguish.

He knew there was nothing he could do for her and just that quickly she was gone. An hour and a half of her keeping his spirits up, then when the end came, he could find no words to make it easier for her. She had called out to him, a voice so scared, confused and pained that he knew he'd never get the sound of his name in that tone out of his head.

He caught Tim's eyes over the woman's now lifeless body, but he couldn't take it anymore. He abruptly stood and ran out of the building.

The sun was just starting to rise on the horizon when he hit the cool night air. He didn't feel the tears as they fell and he ran. He had to find her. He had to see her and know that death had not won over all.

He raced through the triage area scanning the faces. There were far less people waiting on transport and perhaps she had gone home to get some sleep. He hoped not, he needed to see her.

Then, suddenly, there she was, coming out of a hastily erected tent where there was coffee and snacks to get the workers through.

She was beautiful, even covered in dirt and blood and completely exhausted she looked like heaven and he moved to her. He saw the concern cross her face as she met his eyes and noted the despair in their depths.

She met him halfway and let him sweep her into his arms. He knew his grip on her was tight and he should probably relax so he didn't crush her, but he couldn't stop holding her firmly in his grasp.

Ziva felt him shaking against her and wondered what unspeakable horror he must have witnessed to have him running to find her in the dark with that look on his face. She had seen the clean streaks down his cheeks where tears had washed tails of the black dirt that coated the rest of his face.

She pulled back to look in his eyes and she saw the devastation there. Then something shifted in his eyes as if he finally registered that she really was there in front of him and his emotional shift was intense.

She realized that perhaps it was already too late. He already saw her as his light in this darkness and she decided that this was not the time.

She would give him this last moment. She would give him whatever he needed to get through what he had experienced this day, admitting silently that she needed the same things. After this, they would have to find another way, find another method of dealing with all that life throws at them, because if they became too reliant on each other than when the time came that one or the other was no longer there to rely on, the fall would be that much harder.

Not today, she decided. Not while he had that desperate look in his eyes and not while he trembled under her touch.

They had been working non-stop for over eighteen hours. The scene was under control and they had both reached their breaking point. She grabbed his hand and led him back to the car.

When they got home, she was surprised that he wanted nothing more than to clean up and hold her while they both waited for sleep that was a long time coming.

When she woke a few hours later, she found him gazing down at her with that sad look still in his eyes. A lump formed in her throat as he brushed the hair from her face. She was sure it looked a mess, she had gone to sleep with it wet and that was certain to result in a tangled mess, but he didn't seem to mind.

The expression in his eyes shifted as he gave her a tender look before leaning down and kissing her with a reverence that made her heart break in her chest.

Despite everything she had said to herself last night, she couldn't bring herself to stop him in this moment. She couldn't bring herself to shut him down as he sought reassurance in her and she fought the feelings that she was doing the same thing.

As they made love, slowly and gently, she felt tears threatening to escape. The growing knowledge that this would be the last time she felt him with her made her break inside. This would be the last time he was a part of her.

She moved slowly, cataloguing every feeling, every emotion, and every movement. The expression in his eyes after they were both sated and he hovered over her staring into her eyes was sure to be the undoing of everything she had worked to build back up.

"Ziva," he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek before resting on his elbows and staring into her eyes for a long moment. "I realized something today." His voice was whisper soft as his breathing finally evened out.

He shifted to lie next to her and pulled him with her so they were face to face.

"Tony, don't." she tried to stop what she knew was coming. She knew what she had to do would already hurt, but if he said what she knew was coming it would make things so much harder than they had to be.

"Stop, Ziva. Don't run from this." He whispered against her lips as he gave her another gentle kiss. "Today has been nothing, if not eye opening. Life is short, Ziva. Any day I could lose you and I don't want to go another day without telling you what you mean to me."

"Tony," she tried to sound firm, but failed as his name came out of her mouth softly.

"I'm not good at this stuff, Ziva." He breathed against her face, "But today I learned that being scared of something is no reason to hide from it."

She shook her head, willing him to stop before he broke her heart and his own.

He swallowed as if trying to work up to something and look a long slow breath. "Ziva David, you are a beautiful, crazy, scary woman and" he stopped suddenly, clearing his throat of the roughness that had been trying to trap the words in his throat.

"Please, Tony," she begged quietly, but he just smiled at her.

"You can keep running, Ziva, but I'm going to chase you. You can keep trying to hide everything away, but I will always find you." He kissed her again, as she stared at him at a loss for words, hoping her eyes would give him the warning her words could not. "I don't want to spend another minute without you. I don't want to feel how all those people feel today as they die leaving things undone, leaving things unsaid."

She shook her head and managed to quietly say, "No."

However, he just smiled at her, "I know how scared you are. I feel the same fear, but Ziva." He paused a moment as if gathering his thoughts. "If you don't run from a gunfight, if you don't run from a ticking bomb, why do you feel like you need to run from this? Run from me?"

She knew she couldn't look at him anymore, she couldn't take this and glanced away, planning her escape as usual, but he didn't let her. Placing a gentle hand on her cheek, he turned her head towards him, "I love you, Ziva."

He looked nearly as shocked by the admission as she was hearing it. The tears that had been threatening fell and her heart hardened just a little more as it became obvious that this was going to be harder on both of them than she had planned.

"I don't." she responded, barely a whisper, but from the emotions passing through his eyes she knew he had heard her.

"Ziva," he finally spoke, but didn't seem to have anything to add to that as she got up and hastily found her clothes.

"I can't do this anymore, Tony. We can't do this." She was surprised by how strong her voice sounded when she felt so weak from the sadness in his eyes.

This was killing her, but whatever she was feeling now would be better than anything they would go through later.

"You don't mean that, Ziva." His words were a statement, but the question was clear in his eyes.

She felt the lies formulating in her brain and was surprised how level her voice sounded as she said them, "I am not running from anything. I am not hiding from anything. I am just not looking to be so involved. This was just supposed to be fun. I never wanted to get serious and I am sorry that I was not clear with you about that."

"You're a liar."

He didn't sound very confident, so she was still certain that her lies were being accepted regardless of how much he didn't want to hear them. "I am sorry you got hurt."

He stared at her blankly, disbelief clear on his features, as she finally finished dressing and walked out of the room, out of his apartment, and out of his life.

xoxo

A/N: I know I said I'd get to the case, but this happened instead, so blame my darn fingers that made this all Tony and Ziva and no case. I promise, case next chapter, seeing as I've already started that one I can say so with confidence.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

More than forty-eight hours after the attack on the J. Edgar Hoover building and the first forensic evidence was finally turning up. Once the survivors were cleared, the investigators were able to move in the heavy equipment and started making long strides towards clearing the debris.

There were higher concentrations of deceased as they moved through the worst of the destruction. There hadn't been a survivor in nearly ten hours and spirits were falling.

Gibbs had sent Abby back to the lab with the first of the small bomb parts and they had uncovered a few more since them. He pulled out his cell phone and called McGee.

"Need a transport on some bomb parts; you want to take these over to Abby?"

"On it Boss." Gibbs heard some shuffling and remembered that McGee had dropped by one of the tents to grab a quick nap, "You still at the same position?"

Gibbs noted that he sounded groggy; they had all been working far too long. Taking naps in the hastily erected tents or heading home for a few hours and they were all running on steam, "Yeah." He responded briefly and hung up.

This was getting out of hand; this running non-stop without adequate rest or eating regularly, but fortunately there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

He was starting to pull his team out of the area and tomorrow they would be back in the office working how they did best. Running down leads and checking the evidence. Gibbs was confident that the group he had established here would be diligent in finding and transporting the evidence.

After passing the scraps that were likely parts of the bomb to McGee, he noted that it was nearing four o'clock. "Get that evidence to Abby and then go get some rest. I want you in bright and early tomorrow."

Gibbs called Tony, "Wrap it up."

"What?"

Gibbs sighed, his agent had been acting strangely the past day and he was sure it had something to do with the story he had gotten from Tim early the previous morning.

Witnessing something like that would shake a person to their core.

He knew Tony was strong and he would get through this. He was confident in his senior field agent's ability to grow and adapt, but it would take some time. He wouldn't be surprised if every person who was here or set foot here had nightmares for years to come after this. He knew DiNozzo would not be the exception to that, but he knew the man. He had strong will.

Seeing these things, experiencing this kind of ordeal would stick with his agents and he was not certain that they would all come out entirely whole in the end, but he knew they would all come through this together, somehow.

"Start assigning your duties out and call it a day. I want you rested and in the office first thing tomorrow."

"On it, Boss." He heard before his agent hung up.

Next, he called Ziva and passed on the same orders.

McGee took the evidence and Gibbs set to work on handing over his responsibilities.

It was almost seven by the time Gibbs finally made it out of there, but he had no desire to go home. He was completely run down, but he couldn't sleep right now if he wanted to.

As he walked into the bullpen with a fresh coffee in his hand, he was surprised to see Tony sitting at his desk.

The man looked seriously plagued, but this was neither the time nor the place for him to go into it. "I told you to go home and get some rest, DiNozzo."

Tony's eyes as he looked at Gibbs held a level of anguish that he'd never seen in the man, "Couldn't sleep if I wanted to."

Gibbs just nodded and moved to his desk, "Got anything?"

Tony growled in frustration, "Nothing." He said as he buried his face in his hands.

They sat in silence for a long moment and that was eerie all in itself when he considered his company. Either Gibbs had to talk it out with his agent or he needed to get the heck out of here and give the man a few moments to himself to work it out.

Feeling entirely too exhausted to venture into anyone else's trauma, he took the easy way out.

He knew it was probably too early for any results from Abby, but as he finished his coffee he thought it would be a good idea to get a refill and grab Abby a Caf-Pow!. Perhaps by the time he got back someone would have something.

Walking into Abby's lab a while later he was surprised to see McGee and Ziva both helping her. "I sent you two home."

"Couldn't sleep." They both responded and then shared a humorless smile.

"Seems to be going around." He responded as he handed Abby her drink. "Ziva, why don't you go up and help Tony, maybe start calling your contacts and see if there's anything new floating around."

He saw the look in her eyes before she was able to mask it and he felt an instant flicker of anger and regret as he interpreted that expression.

He knew something like this was going to happen and now he understood Tony's mood over the last day. It was more than just experiencing hell on Earth during the rescue operation.

As Ziva moved to follow the orders he had given her, Gibbs nodded to Abby and Tim and followed her to the elevator.

As soon as she realized he'd followed her she began resonating with a nervous energy he'd never seen from her. Once on the elevator she reached over to push the emergency stop so he didn't have to.

"What, Gibbs?" she asked with a hint of impatience as she leaned against the cold metal wall of the elevator giving him a defiant look.

He just continued to watch her until the tension became too much to deal with, "You have to know that this wasn't the best time."

She just shrugged, "I do not know what you are talking about."

"Don't play dumb," he responded with a little more venom than was probably necessary, "You couldn't have waited until he recovered from everything that's gone on? You had to kick him while he was down?"

"I do not know who you are accusing me of kicking, but I can assure you I have an alibi for whatever you are implying I did."

Gibbs gave her a glare. He felt his pulse quicken as anger overtook him. He had warned them, all of them, and here they were disregarding everything he had made clear, "You know damn well what I'm talking about and I'm not going to ask again."

"How are you so sure that I am the one who did the kicking? Did Tony talk to you?"

He didn't blink as he tried to read her, "He didn't have to. He's sitting up at his desk miserable while you're hiding in Abby's lab."

Ziva stared at him for a moment, standing her ground, but not making any comment on the subject.

"I already told you what would happen if this went south and work suffered because of it. You had better believe that if you two cannot work together I will ship you off to some Navy vessel on a long assignment in the Arctic so fast your head will spin."

"Me?" she finally asked with indignation, "What if he is the one that makes it impossible to work together?"

Gibbs gave her a predatory smile, "You pulled the trigger, and it's your head on the chopping block. You better hope he plays ball, too, or you're gone."

With that, Gibbs hit the emergency stop and he wasn't surprised that she remained silent the entire trip up the elevator.

xoxo

Tony had been trying to find something, anything. Chatter from terrorist countries was surprisingly little and he was feeling the frustration mounting as he continued to glace at the screen shot of the asshole behind the wheel of the truck moments before it struck the building.

Tony wasn't sure what else to do, but he was open to inspiration and hopeful it would hit soon.

More than anything, he just wanted to throw something, break something, smash something, but he knew how that would end.

He knew, just like his apartment yesterday, all that would result in is broken things, scraped knuckles and a big mess to clean up. He groaned as he thought about the mess he had left strewn through his apartment after he realized she wasn't coming back.

When he realized she was serious and actually processed the things she had said to him, he hadn't been able to control his outrage. How she could look him in the eye Wednesday and agree that they were going somewhere and they were going together and then less than a day later take it all back and tell him that everything he thought they had been together was just some great big misunderstanding on his part.

He was still lost in thoughts of all the things he had ruined in his fit of rage and the outpouring of despair she had inspired in him brought a hint of color to his cheeks. It was something you did when you were some angry jilted teenage kid, not something a grown man succumbed to in a blind fit of fury.

That was exactly the problem though.

He had kept himself locked away, kept himself off of anything serious for fear of how it would affect him when everything went to hell and here he was anyway. The funny part was he had been certain he would be the one that caused the problem; he would be the one that did whatever stupid thing caused the end of what they had built.

He knew that would be the only way it could end.

He had been wrong.

So wrong.

He had seen her eyes some nights, had seen the way she left for a run, but never had that prepared him for hearing words as she stormed out on him.

Hearing her tell him she didn't love him, tell him she had never wanted to be serious, just to have a little fun.

The old Anthony DiNozzo may have been all about no strings attached fun, but he had changed. He had grown up somewhere along the way and she hadn't seen it. Perhaps he had not done enough to show her that and she just assumed he wanted the same empty relationship that she did.

He was still lost in thought when the elevator dinged and Gibbs walked out followed immediately by Ziva. He caught sight of her and had to look away.

As she took her seat, he felt the thick tension in the room as if it were physically choking him.

Sure, they had spent years with tension between them for one reason or another, but now that he had known her, tasted her, felt every inch of her as she screamed in ecstasy, the thought of going back to how things were before made him feel physically ill.

He observed her surreptitiously as he continued his online search, though without a name or much to go on there was only so much searching he could do.

He watched her appearing casual as she started making phone calls in various languages. If she can be casual about all this, so could he. As he put on one of his many masks, he continued to work.

While he wasn't exactly himself, he felt a sense of calm in projecting the false tranquility and he let his emotions drift away from him. This was not the time or place for emotions to get in the way.

Tony glanced at Gibbs to see his boss watching him closely and he gave the man a brief smile before turning back to the project of trying to find something from nothing.

He heard a phone ringing and watched Gibbs reach in his pocket, "Gibbs." A moment's pause before the man shot to his feet, "We're on our way."

Tony and Ziva both stood as well, but Ziva was still on the phone. "Tony, you're with me. Ziva, keep trying to see what you can find from your contacts."

Once he and Gibbs reached the lab, he noticed Abby was bouncing with a ridiculous amount of energy considering she had probably been running non-stop for nearly two full days without sleep.

"Gibbs! Gibbs! We got something." She began, as she started clicking through several picture on the screens in front of her computer station. "Well, a couple of 'something's, or maybe a few."

"McGee." Gibbs cut in, letting them both know that Gibbs wanted Tim to take the debriefing. He noted the brief hint of disappointment in Abby's features, but he was too tired for rambling or incessant conjecture before the facts were presented.

McGee seemed anxious as he began clicking through pictures and detailing what they had found, "Omar Haulia." He said bringing up a picture of the man driving the truck alongside a shot from the terrorist watch list. "The suicide bomber who drove this truck is on the federal No Fly list. There is no record of him entering the country."

McGee pulled up another angle on the truck and continued, "We pulled this from around the corner from the FBI building a few minutes before the attack. He is clearly on a cell phone and this is the best shot we could find of his cargo."

McGee stepped aside to let Abby take the controls, his cast was filthy and itchy and still inhibiting his typing and navigation. She zoomed in on the small side windows and worked through several photo filters before pulling a blurry picture of what looked to be oil drums up on the screen. From this angle, they could count four, but the truck bed was probably completely full of them under the canopy.

"We also got a hit on the bomb." McGee continued and then swallowed before trying to continue, but when his mouth opened, no sound seemed to come out.

Abby glanced at him, noting the predicament she pulled up another shot, bomb debris on both sides of a split image and several matching points of reference.

"So we know who built it." Tony remarked into the silence.

Neither Tim nor Abby seemed intent on revealing that bit of information to Gibbs pushed harder, "Who did this?" he demanded.

"The bomb was built by Troyel Midar." Ziva spoke from the doorway of the lab and Gibbs met her eyes suddenly, understanding the implications of what she was saying.

The electricity in the room was palpable and Tony seemed to be the only person who didn't understand the connection. "Did I miss an episode of America's Most Wanted or something? Who is this guy?"

Ziva's eyes met his and there was something in there that she couldn't hide quickly enough. Finally, whatever it was disappeared and was replaced by anger as she responded, "He built the bomb that nearly killed us in Florida."

xoxo

A/N: For those who are reading this without reading SSD that this is a sequel of, here are the necessary disclaimers: there was a bomb in Florida that nearly killed Tony and Ziva when it exploded.

The terrorist bomb-maker was identified, but never apprehended. It was presented as a single sale from terrorists to drug runners. The drug dealers had indicated it was for retribution against a rival gang encroaching on their turf. Guess that was either a full out lie or there are other people buying bombs, because now the bombs are in DC.

Guess we'll find out in the coming chapters. I hope you enjoy and note that the updates may be a little slower as we move back into the workweek.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

He woke, feeling rested for the first time in nearly a week. Noting the warmth across his right side and the dark hair spilling over his shoulder he made an effort not to move. He didn't want to disturb her.

Despite his best efforts, he heard the yawn and saw her raise smiling eyes to look at him.

It had been so long since Tim woke with her wrapped around him, since the day that the Hoover building had been attacked. He had almost forgotten what it was like to wake feeling warm and secure.

He reveled in the feelings a moment as he smiled back at Abby and let his mind wander over everything that had changed over the past week.

It had only been six days since he thought she had died in the blast, but from everything leading off that moment it felt more like a year.

It had been four days back in the office, in a situation that felt tense and strained, even more than just the internal issues plaguing all of them as a result of what they had all witnessed.

It had been two days since he had cornered Tony in the men's room to find out if he was all right.

Tim had been there with him, when they had moved the wall and watched Lacey bleed out. He hadn't been nearly as involved in the discussions with Lacey as Tony had been, but Tim knew he had taken that one extremely hard.

Tim knew as hard as he had taken it, Tony was obviously taking it harder and had been radiating an intense negative energy for days.

It wasn't until he cornered Tony that he found out that his low spirits were from a combination of the hell they went through in the rescue and having Ziva but him loose a few hours later. That negative energy was clearly not something he'd be working through very easily.

He smiled a little brighter thinking that perhaps he had been spending a little too much time with Abby. Negative energy, oh, he had it bad all right.

"What are you so smiley about?" she asked with a chuckle.

It was a sound he hadn't heard in days and he relished the moment before responding, "I was just thinking how happy I am to be waking up here with you."

Abby kissed his chest and then continued to look up at him, "Me, too."

Tim felt seriousness starting to weigh in on the situation and was disappointed when his brain didn't filter his thoughts before he spoke, "Tell me what happened?" he asked and instantly regretted it when she stiffened slightly against his side.

Abby turned her head to look down, positioning her ear over the center of his chest as if taking note of his heart beating in an attempt to lull her back into the security they had both felt on waking.

He remained silent. If she didn't want to talk about it, he wasn't going to push anymore. Instead, he began to gently run his fingers up and down her back. Savoring the sensations long denied by having that cast impede his tactile senses.

He thought of Abby going toe to toe with Gibbs over the cast when Gibbs had walked into the lab yesterday to find her sawing it off him. He had been surprised she won the debate and he wasn't hauled down to the nearest orthopedic facility to get a new one.

Her soft voice suddenly brought him out of the reverie, "I was in line, and the guy in front of me noticed my NCIS ID. I had apparently forgotten to take it off when I left the building. He let me go in front of him, said he was a retired Navy man himself and I must have important business to get to." She sighed, "When people started shouting about the truck on the sidewalk across the street, a crowd gathered at the window, but everything happened so fast." She stopped suddenly, her voice breaking on the last word.

"It's ok, baby, you don't have to tell me." He reassured as she trembled slightly in his grasp. "It's ok."

"No, I need to." She sighed and he felt her breathe deeply as she attempted to physically calm herself. He knew the effort it was taking her to get control. "I didn't really know what happened until much later. I was standing near the counter one second and being tackled by the man I had been talking to the next. It was so loud and there was a wave of heat that followed the glass spraying the entire room. Those people in front of the windows, they took most of it, but there was a lot of glass and so much other fragments flying through as people just sat there trying to enjoy their lunch."

He pulled her tightly to him as he felt her reliving the worst of it.

"His name is Cayden." He felt warmth on his chest as a tear fell, "_Was_ Cayden." She elaborated. "He saved my life, Tim."

"Shh." He soothed her gently.

She was quiet for a long time and he knew she was crying, but she was done talking. After a moment, she looked up at him and he felt his heart break from the sadness in her eyes. Somehow, amid the sadness she found the strength to smile at him. "If we ever have a boy, can we name him Cayden?" 

Tim felt as if he may not be able to speak from the enormity of emotions sweeping him.

She had actually asked him as if she fully expected to have children with him someday and he couldn't help but return her sweet smile, "How about, if we have a daughter, we name her Cadence? You have such strong ties to music; I've always thought that would be fitting. We could call her Kate for short?" he added the last part on a whisper, not trusting his normal tone to hold strong and not break under the enormity of this discussion.

"Oh, Timmy, that sounds perfect."

xoxo

McGee walked into the office later that morning with a silly grin plastered on his face. He didn't even seem to notice or care about the heavy tension in the air. He did briefly wonder when Gibbs was going to slap those two back to their senses or follow through on shipping them off so that a little bit of amicable peace could be restored.

To his credit, Tim noticed that Tony was putting in an effort to smooth things over on the work front at least. It was having little effect and things were still strained.

Perhaps that was a good thing, though, because Tony did appear to spend a lot less time goofing off and a lot more time focusing on the tasks.

They had made huge strides in linking the terrorist cell to the coast of Miami, thanks to a facial recognition program Abby had beefed up and been running against footage taken from various security cameras. They had even located a video of Omar Haulia meeting with another man who they were able to identify as Abdullah Khalif a known terrorist who was currently on the watch list.

They had been tracking the potential methods that the two and possibly others may have been using to get into the country and had come up with a few theories. None seemed to hold as much weight as the connection between the Cuban Drug Cartel and the Islamic Terrorists when the team had been in Miami six weeks before.

Not only had the terrorist bombs been a factor in that investigation, but reviewing interview notes it became clear that at least the maker of those bombs had been in, or near, US waters while they smuggled the bomb on the same routes that they used to bring the drugs into the country.

It was nearing lunchtime when Gibbs called his agents up to Director Vance's office.

Once everyone was settled, Gibbs gave Tony and Ziva pointed looks as if daring them to disregard his orders about letting their relationship cloud the work situation before he began, "We have some good leads suggesting that the terrorist cell is operating out of Miami or perhaps the surrounding area. Anything new?"

"There is more chatter now than a few days ago, but knowing what specifically to ask about has proven useful. There has still been no talk of Washington DC and no one is taking credit for the attack, but there has been some chatter about the Florida coast." Ziva stated. She had been so matter of fact lately. No hints of her humor or glimpses of that devil-may-care attitude she sometimes harbored.

She was almost like a pod person, Tim thought, and then admonished himself silently for taking over the movie references while Tony was obviously not feeling up to it.

"The FBI's case on Eduardo Rodriguez, suspected head of the Miami outlet of the Cuban drug trafficking ring, has fallen through again. They can't get anyone to turn on the king pin, and when they do, they can't keep them alive." Tony added to the picture building on the situation.

Tim piped up with his non-information as well, since they were all sharing, "There are no new leads on Abdullah Khalif; he seems to have dropped off the grid just before the attack on the Hoover building."

Direct Vance stood from behind his desk and pulled the toothpick out of his mouth, "What I am about to tell you does not leave this room."

The agent's nodded in response and Tim noticed that their boss kept shifting his gaze as if expecting a blow up or some kind of negative reaction to whatever they were about to be briefed on.

Truth be told, Tim wasn't sure that there was much that would surprise this group anymore. Not after the week they had gone through.

"We believe there is a mole operating inside the FBI or local law enforcement in the Miami area." Vance explained, "There would be no other way that the witnesses would keep disappearing from the safe houses."

The agents nodded, they had already been thinking along those lines.

"We need a team in place from the wrong side of the law to see if we can stir up some information on the mole and maybe blow this terrorist ring open in the process, if the two are connected. I'm sure you're aware that this is a very likely conclusion."

Gibbs took over, "Your cover will be a rich thrill seeker and a former Mercenary. You'll be going under as gun runners."

"Wait, who?" Tim asked for clarification, but he was certain his prior involvement with the local police would preclude him from potential as an undercover operative.

"DiNozzo and David." Director Vance stated in a clear tone, which would have made the looks of confusion that passed over Tony and Ziva's face almost comical if it weren't for the fact that they might kill each other before the op was over.

"You got a problem with that?" Gibbs asked, glaring at each in turn.

"No, Boss." Tony responded.

It took Ziva another moment to simply shake her head indicating she would not be voicing an objection at the present.

"Your cover is that you met while Antonio Malcuso," Gibbs indicated Tony, and he was actually relatively glad he'd sort of get to keep his name, that was a nice twist, one that rarely happened on an op like this. Of course, while getting into character it was best to leave the real you behind and having your own name made things a little tricky sometimes. "was gallivanting through Europe on an endless bender looking for new and exciting ways to get into trouble just to find ways out of it."

Gibbs turned to Ziva, "You'll be Elisheva. Antonio ripped off one of your gun drops; you met when he returned the shipment and asked around about being hired onto your operation. The rest is history, and you can sort out your criminal past over the next few days since there won't be any official record of that anyway."

"Thank you for thinking to give me a strong Jewish name." she seemed to fall into contemplation for a moment, "What's my last name?"

"Malcuso." He responded briefly, knowing this would be the part that didn't sit well with either of them.

Ziva just gave a nearly imperceptible nod while Tony stood with his mouth slightly open as if ready to protest.

"I'll fill them in on the rest." Gibbs said quickly stopping any further comments on the subject as he started out of the Director's office.

When he reached the reception desk outside, he noticed he was alone and glanced back over his shoulder, "DiNozzo, David!"

"On your six, Boss." Tony finally snapped out of it and jogged to catch up with Gibbs while Ziva and Tim following at a brisk walk.

Once they were out in the hallway near MTAC, Gibbs locked his glare on all of them, "McGee, with Abby, finish setting up these backgrounds. DiNozzo, David, my office."

Tim started down the stairs as the others moved to the elevator. He did not envy them.

xoxo

As soon as the elevator began moving, Gibbs reached over and hit the emergency stop.

"We had this conversation; I don't want to hear excuses why you can't work together. I don't want to hear reasons why one or both of you should be replaced. I don't want to hear anything but that you'll bust your asses to pull off this mission."

They both managed weak nods. If the looks on their faces were anything to go by he was certain they would apologize if it weren't against the rules. He almost laughed at that, why did they start caring about the rules now that it was too late.

"I will not let you down, Gibbs." Ziva finally put voice to her promise.

"Are you saying I will?" Tony's voice was that of a petulant child.

"I did not say that." She responded and suddenly it was as if Gibbs wasn't even there with them.

"Apparently I have to read between the lines because you don't actually mean everything you say. Or perhaps you're going to blame that on the English language, too?"

"You know, what, Tony?"

Before she could continue, Gibbs cut in, "Enough!"

Both agents suddenly turned towards him as if just now remembering that he was there. "Is there a reason we cannot go in as business partners, strictly business partners?" she inquired.

Gibbs shook his head. "Two months ago you wouldn't have batted an eye at this mission and I fully expect you to do your job the same as you would have done it then. You aren't going to have back up. You'll be monitored, as best we can, using available public video cameras, but due to the sensitive nature of this case, we aren't going to be able to put wires on you."

Gibbs sighed and wondered when his agents had gotten so dense. Neither seemed able to follow a train of thought without him spelling it out for them, "You walk the wild side together and have blown into Miami looking for a little fun in the sun. You're there to make money, but you're also going to need to look like a ridiculously wealthy thrill seeking couple of people."

Gibbs took in their reactions to that and noted that it could have been worse, "This is only going to work if there is a reason for you two to be so irrevocably tied to each other. You need to appear inseparable or you could be separated. What happens if someone from Rodriguez's gang thinks he has a chance with you?" he asked Ziva and the necessity to keep the two agent's close to cover each other's backs seemed to register in both of them.

Sure, they might be pissed at each other for some stupid reason right now, but Gibbs was certain the ingrained protective instincts of both would win out over their need to have the upper hand or get the last word.

He knew there were other agents that might be able to do this mission, but none he trusted as implicitly as these two. None he would stake a mission of this magnitude on.

A few months ago, he would have very little concern that they would be able to pull something like this off. Now he felt tiny tendril of doubt in them, an inkling they might fail.

They might actually miss an opportunity while blinded by their disappointment with each other, or get someone killed by dropping character at some point to have a very uncharacteristic fight at an inopportune time. He let the doubts wash over him for a moment before banishing them.

This was his team. They were two of the best undercover agents he had ever seen. They could do this op in their sleep.

He just hoped he wasn't making the biggest mistake of his life.

xoxo

A/N: Uh oh, what's going to happen when our jet-setting "happy couple" blows into town on the curtails of the nasty break-up they just had?

I will probably not have a new chapter up tomorrow. We'll see how boring my meetings at work are, but at the latest Wednesday. Until then, let me know what you think. Thanks.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Abby thought Tim looked quite like a classic deer in the headlights when he walked into her lab and she asked, "What's going on?"

She knew she was making IDs for Tony and Ziva, she knew there was some kind of undercover operation in the works, but she wanted details.

"Tony and Ziva are going undercover as a jet-setting, thrill-seeking, gun running couple." Tim sighed, "That just sounds ridiculous now that I've said it out loud. Why don't they ever ask me to help with these stories? I'm good at this stuff, I write fiction all the time."

"They can't go U.C. as a married couple, Tim, they'll kill each other." Abby shook her head, turning back to her computer as she continued editing documents and transcripts to give them a full and rich history. "Did you see that glare yesterday? Things have gone downhill fast for them and – Wait, you're not going with are you?" her eyes suddenly got big, "Tell me you're not going. You can't go with them, because if they can't keep their heads on straight and something happens to you, I swear I'll kill them both."

Tim couldn't help but smile as he walked up behind her and settled his hands on her shoulders, "I'm not going under, but I am going with." Then he laughed, earning him a glare from Abby, "Only you could be concerned about someone getting themselves killed one minute, threaten to kill them yourself the next, and come out the other side looking cute, not crazy."

"Don't change the subject." She gave him a glare, "We still have a few days, and I'm thinking this might call for an intervention."

Tim just shook his head, "Leave it, Abby. If it's meant to be it will happen someday and if it's not then they took a chance."

"I know. Even if the chance probably killed the whole team vibe, we can't expect them to just keep on like it never happened, but they could at least act a little more grown up about the whole thing."

Tim smiled, "We did set a pretty good example that first time."

Abby returned his smile over her shoulder and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. "We can't expect anyone to be as remarkable as we are."

"That's asking a lot considering you're the most remarkable person I've ever met." He said softly.

She turned to face him and wrapped her arms around his neck before giving him a gentle kiss, "You're not so bad yourself." She said once she had pulled away and gave him a sweet smile, "I just wish everyone could be as happy as I am."

Tim returned her smile and was about to add something when they heard two thumps from the elevator area.

It was the sign Gibbs had adopted whenever he knew Tim was in Abby's lab. He seemed to do it as a warning, to let them know that he was about to walk through the door. It was an odd development, Tim would have assumed he would appear behind them at any moment and slap him across the head, but he was being oddly considerate of the whole thing.

Sure enough a moment later he was standing with them, a dejected Tony and Ziva following close behind.

"Give 'em what you've got on the background so they can start figuring out who they are." Gibbs told Abby.

After she had presented a folder for each of them with copies of the documents and information, they both seemed inclined to leave the area and disappeared.

Gibbs dismissed Tim with a glare; he needed a minute alone with Abby.

He dreaded the conversation that was to come. Knew how she felt about what he was going to ask her. He knew how much she hated it, in fact, but the conversation was necessary.

She beat him to the punch, "I want to go with. I'm the one who altered the facial recognition software and if you only have public cameras to track Tony and Ziva, you're going to need me on this, especially if we can't use the resources of the local police, we're going to need our own resources."

Gibbs fought a smile as she continued trying to convince him that she needed to go with; perhaps it was going to be easier than he thought to get her to play along. "I don't know, Abby. Tim can handle the technology camera stuff. He could use some help and I need to set up a lab for weapons testing and some other things, but I don't think you're the right person for the job."

"Are you kidding me?" she gave him that glare she was so good at, "Gibbs, seriously."

Gibbs sighed, not in exasperation as she probably assumed, but because his next statement was hard enough to think about, let alone say, "I need a lab tech under cover, you'd have to change your appearance."

She smiled at him; she obviously felt that she had won. Then her eyes darkened as she considered him closely, "What exactly do you mean by that? I don't have to wear a pant suit and pumps, do I?"

He couldn't fight the smile anymore, "Nothing like that, but some of the tats and all of the Goth stuff needs to go. You'll have to do something different with your hair."

She gave him a huge grin and lunged into him for a quick hug before turning back to her computer, "I can do that. I just need some of that make-up that my friend Michael uses when he dresses as Michelle and I think some new clothes could be fun as long as it's not a suit." She smiled over her shoulder, "So, what's my cover?"

xoxo

Tony had settled in with a six-pack of beer and a pizza. He contemplated putting something on TV, but knew he wasn't in the mood for it.

It was his last night to wallow in his self-imposed misery. It was his last night of freedom from the hell he was about to put his heart through.

Pretending to be married to Ziva was going to kill him. They had worked together the past couple of days very well, but being in the office and being out on an op was a completely different story. He was doing his best to bury his thoughts and feelings and he was actually proud of himself for staying on task as well as he had.

He'd even found the inspiration to throw in a retro-style prank on McGee that brought him back to the old days and left a smile on his face. As McGee struggled to pick himself back up off the ground and reassemble his office chair, Tony turned to share the humor with Ziva. She had been his partner in pranking for so long that the moment of normalcy was cathartic. She shared a smile with him before she seemed to realize something and then her expression shut down again.

The soft knock at his door brought him back to the present. He set his beer on the table and went to get the door, wondering if his twenty year-old neighbor had locked himself out of his apartment again.

That kid was going to be disappointed if he had to wait for Tony to pick the lock now that Ziva wasn't around anymore.

He pulled open the door and his smile died on his face. "Ziva?"

"May I come in?" she asked.

"Uh, sure," he replied warily, "You want a beer or something?"

Ziva shook her head, "I need some of my clothes for the trip and I was hoping to have a word with you."

He nodded, feeling the familiar numbness start to weigh on him as he moved aside to let her step in. She stepped past him and his gaze followed her into his apartment, remembering too late that he had been too tired and miserable to clean up the mess he had made that first day after she'd left him.

"I like what you've done with the place." She joked as she started toward the bedroom.

"Yeah, you know. It's spring cleaning time again." He wasn't sure if he should follow her. Putting them both in the same space, the space they had shared. The room he hadn't been able to sleep in for over a week since she climbed out of bed and stormed out the door.

The room still smelled like her and while he could always wash the sheets and pillowcases, he had been too tired for that as well.

He opted to return to his beer and pizza in the living room and left her on her own to gather her things. He grabbed his remote and finally turned on the TV. He was flipping through channels when Ziva returned from the bedroom with a large stack of clothes slung over her arm.

She laid the garments across the back of his couch while she made herself at home and sat on the arm of the sofa with her feet on the cushion, casually observing him as she had done so many times when this all felt comfortable and normal.

It was getting under his skin, but as a practice for the upcoming mission, he practiced controlling his negative emotions.

"We need to talk about this." She began after a long moment.

"About what?" she could mean a number of things and he wasn't taking the chance on misunderstanding her again. Last time had been too painful.

"This mission and this," she gestured between the two of them as if unable to put to words what she was trying to express.

"Well," he began, "Talk, then."

She sat in silence on the edge of his couch while he took a sip of his beer and gauged her expression. She was nervous, that much was clear. Apparently, she didn't do any better with confrontation than he did.

"We need to focus on the mission at hand and I think we should start by burying all this crap between us." She wasn't meeting his eyes, but he didn't blame her, he probably wasn't giving off the most comforting vibe right that moment.

"Crap, huh? Interesting choice of words, but I suppose it's as good as any." He finished with a shrug, trying for a nonchalance he didn't feel.

He watched her roll her eyes, but that didn't block the flash of anger that briefly stole her expression, "This is ridiculous. I do not know why I thought we could talk this out like rational people."

He saw her move to stand and reached across the empty cushion to place a hand on her knee, "I'm sorry. You're right." As soon as he knew she wasn't going to bolt, he pulled his hand back.

A hurt expression crossed her face and for the first time he noticed that she seemed to be carrying sadness in her eyes. As he thought back over the past week, that look had been in her eyes for days and he hadn't noticed until just this moment.

Had that been there the whole time? When did the sadness start?

Perhaps she had seen some equally horrifying things in triage as he saw in the building. Perhaps that sadness was from the bombing, but he suspected it was from what had been going on between them over the last several days.

Nothing had been the same since she walked out on him and it had been hard on the bond they had built over the years. He knew he was acting like a whiny brat and he had tried to get things back where they were supposed to be.

That was hard when it was actually trying to get things back where she thought they should be. He had strong opinions on where he thought they should be and it didn't coincide with her feelings on the subject.

He knew how hard it was to be where she was. How hard it was to tell someone that you didn't feel the same things they did. He never gave her thoughts and feelings on the matter much consideration as he wallowed in his own negativity.

As he began examining things from her perspective, he thought, not for the first time this week, that he was a giant ass. He was not making things easier on her for having to make this difficult decision

"I've been an ass, I know. I'm not taking this very well."

"Really?" she asked sarcastically glancing around the damage he had inflicted on his apartment. "I could have been a little less of a bitch about it."

Tony laughed and it felt good to be sharing humor with her, even if it was just them calling themselves names. It was a vast improvement over calling each other names.

He took the road to distraction, hoping to get back in the swing of their former familiarity, "You're not actually planning to bring those clothes, are you?"

Her brow furrowed as she considered him with a disgruntled look, "What is the problem with my clothes?"

Tony stood and pulled her up from the couch by her hand. As soon as he realized what he had done, he dropped her hand as if it had burned him. He started towards the bedroom and from the sound of footfalls behind him, he was certain she was following.

Tony started pulling various items out of his closet and drawers, laying them over the bed.

"What are you doing?"

Tony gave her a grin as he pulled out his spare suitcase and started packing it for her, "We're supposed to be rich, and you're a sexy gunrunner. As good as you look in olive drab; it's not very 'in character'."

She stood silently, watching him work without another word of protest, even as he packed various pairs of sexy underwear.

"Are we coming to an agreement on how we are going to move forward?"

Tony shrugged in response, "What's your plan?"

Ziva didn't seem to want to meet his eyes as she moved to the dresser and started going through some of her other things. "I was thinking maybe we could try to forget that the last two months happened."

Tony felt pressure in his chest as he considered that ignoring everything they had been to each other would be devastating. Despite how angry it would probably make her when they were just getting back to some kind of normalcy he had another idea.

"It would probably work better – for the op," he ventured quietly, moving up behind her and turning her to face him, "If we just forgot about the last week."

He saw the flash of heat in her eyes as her gaze flicked from his eyes to his lips, but she pulled away. Without response, she grabbed the bag he had packed for her and left the room.

Tony found himself hoping he didn't screw anything up as he followed her out to the living room.

xoxo

A/N: I hope you are all enjoying this. I'm sorry that it took so long to get updated.

Did it meet your expectations?

New chapter in the works, should be up tomorrow or Friday. Then it's back to the weekend of daily updates unless life gets in the way.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: This chapter is born from a review that pointed out that I did not detail Ziva's motivation for breaking it off with Tony. As I cannot go back, let's move forward with that in mind.

Chapter 14

It was after eight when Ziva finally left Tony's house that night. They had come to an agreement and as much as it made sense, the decision plagued her.

As she drove aimlessly through the streets, she allowed her mind to wander over the events of the evening. Whatever it was that made her traitorous heart agree with Tony over the objections of her rational mind was still a mystery to her.

Before she knew where she was even going, she pulled up in front of a house and got out. She walked in without knocking and started down the stairs.

She respected that Gibbs was a creature of habit. If she needed anything, she could always find him in his basement working on some project.

Today he was building a tiny wooden cage. Flat on the bottom, bars on two sides, with two more sides in various states of construction and open on the top.

As she took in the raw state of the item, she felt a wave of confusion pass over her. His goddaughter was too old for a crib and she couldn't think of anyone else he knew that was expecting.

He gave her a nod as she moved into his space and passed her a hand sander. He knew the drill. She was here to work out whatever was bothering her and he would wait until she was ready to speak. Sometimes she didn't say a word, just worked on whatever project he had and then left feeling better, but not entirely sure why.

Perhaps it was knowing that there was someone that cared enough to know her. To know that she was not the type to be forced into conversation unless she was ready and willing. Tonight, she did not have the time or energy to sand this wood aimlessly.

"I am worried about tomorrow."

He didn't speak for a moment, perhaps waiting to see if this was going to be one of her rare monologues or if she was open to a two-sided conversation. "You'll do fine." He confirmed after a moment, moving to his workbench to have a sip of bourbon before rolling a chair up to the workbench to start assembling the other sides.

"I am not concerned about the operation. We both know that Tony and I could do this in our sleep."

Gibbs glanced at her briefly before bowing his head back to his work.

Apparently, she was going to be on her own for conversation tonight. "I just came from his house." She was certain she didn't need to elaborate about whom she was speaking. "We came to an agreement that will help make the mission more believable, but I am not sure that I am entirely comfortable with the prospect."

She concentrated for a moment on her hands moving slowly and steadily. With the grain as Gibbs had explained to her years before. Never having worked with wood before meeting Gibbs, she was surprised how easily she fell into the motions. She was surprised how soothing she found making something. She allowed herself a moment of introspection to remind herself that her entire life she had been taught how to destroy things.

She knew there was some therapeutic value in using her hands to create something. She knew that Gibbs, unlike anyone else she worked with, knew the turmoil of a life that had been lead on the battlefield.

A former sniper and a former assassin were building a baby's crib. It sounded like a joke Tony would tell.

With that errant thought and the little smile that accompanied it, she was right back to what had been bothering her. "I have never been good with this stuff." Ziva began again.

Gibbs did not look up, "You're doing fine, nice even strokes."

Ziva's hand stilled as she looked at him to see if he was joking, but his head was still bowed to his work, "I was not talking about sanding this crib."

She watched him shrug and she began the even motion again.

She found herself suddenly frozen in mid-movement when he spoke, "You have to be clear about what you mean when you speak, Ziva."

She felt a sudden anger burn through her. She knew it was more directed at herself than Gibbs, but couldn't stop the anger from coming out in her voice as she spoke, "I am fairly certain that whatever you're referring to is a private matter."

Gibbs just shrugged again, not looking up from his work.

They sat in silence for several minutes before she felt like she would be able to speak again without being irrational. "You're right." She began, trying to think of how to explain herself.

Gibbs glanced up briefly with a little smile, "Usually am."

She found herself returning the smile as she recognized that, had the phrase come out of anyone else's mouth, it would have sounded cocky and arrogant. From Gibbs, it was a statement of a fact she had come to know as a near certainty.

She knew that he was a man familiar with her thoughts and feelings on how one makes up for a life spent doing horrible unspeakable things. She knew that he was quite possibly the only person she knew that was more guarded than she was, but as she considered that a moment, he had not shut himself off from life. He had loved and married. He had hobbies that weren't about maintaining her body or weapons. Had friends that were loyal and could be called upon, when needed.

As she began to compare them, her entire thought of what she may have been searching for in coming to Gibbs was thrown out the window as reality hit her. She had actually come to ask the man his advice.

"How do you do it?"

He raised an eyebrow at her and she knew she was being vague again. She really had no desire to put to words the thoughts that had been trampling each other in her head, but she knew it was necessary in order to feel more secure in what they were walking into.

"How do you go through a disaster like this and still find the energy to create something?" she gestured towards the crib and hedged her actual question.

He laid his tools down. She was certain he knew that was not the question she had intended to ask, but he considered her briefly before speaking, "You have to believe that no matter what you've seen, no matter what you've done or what others have done to you, that you can still find beauty in the world."

He was watching her again, that expression that let her know that to him she was an open book and there was no hiding as she could with others. She was certain she wanted to say something to stop the words Gibbs was saying, but she was unable to open her mouth.

"Ziva, you can't let these things eat at you. You can't let the horrors others visit on you be the deciding factor in your own life. Then you'll be fine, even when everything falls to hell." He gestured at the crib they were both working on, "Take this pile of wood here. Last year I would have been making a chair or a couple of those raised flower beds that Shannon liked so much."

Ziva remained motionless, now not only unable, but unwilling to interrupt him.

Gibbs seemed to focus his intensity on the construction in front of him, "You learn to anticipate the ways that life will play out. You begin to feel safe and secure or at least comfortable and then something happens that shakes what you have tenuously built. Perhaps it is the senseless death of so many innocent lives, or perhaps it's as simple as a romance in the office that you see blooming into something that will eventually need this." he gestured towards the crib.

Ziva's eyes widened, had he built that for her and Tony? That makes no sense, and then it clicked, "Have I missed something about Abby and Tim?" she questioned.

He responded with a self-conscious chuckle, "No, I'm just anticipating this one so it's not so much of a surprise when they break the news."

Ziva considered him a moment, noting the hint of rare joy in his features. "You will be an excellent grandpa, not that I am calling you old."

After a long silence, where she was allowed to contemplate all that he had said, she finally addressed another question she had never thought she would be bringing up when she walked in the door tonight, "Do you really think they are interested in children?"

Gibbs gave her a knowing smile and shook his head, apparently disappointed in her observational skills, "They already named their future daughter."

Ziva was shocked. She couldn't believe she had been so imperceptive, "How did I miss all this?"

She watched his eyebrow raise in that sarcastic way that said 'Really?' as if she had just asked the most ridiculous question, "You've been a little busy trying to hide all week."

He looked her straight in the eyes then and as much as she wanted to avert her gaze, she found herself powerless to turn away as he continued, "You can't cut yourself off from everyone and everything just because you're afraid."

She didn't know how he got so completely inside her head. The only logic is that he actually knew her well enough because he could see himself in her. That made her feel uneasy and she wanted nothing more than to shut down again, but she knew Gibbs would not let her. Instead, she tried to sidestep it, "I am not afraid of anything."

He gave her a sad smile before getting up and moving back to his workbench to take another drink and pour himself a fresh glass. "I know exactly what you're doing and it's not going to make things any easier for you or for him." He responded, ignoring her blatant lie.

"I am not doing anything."

"I think that's my point." He responds cryptically.

She knows what he means, even if his statement was ambiguous and she feels the familiar helplessness that overwhelms her as her barriers fall away under his concerned expression.

"You do not understand, Gibbs." She says, surprised how quiet her voice is when she finally does find it.

Gibbs pours a second glass and scoots it across his workbench in her direction, "Try me." He responds simply and waits as she takes a sip and several long moments to gather her thoughts.

As much as thoughts are rushing through her head, she didn't seem able to speak. After a few more moments, he moved back to construction on the crib and added, "I've got time."

They worked in silence for several minutes as thoughts of how to explain this out loud when she didn't even fully understand it in her own head. How do you put words to the thought that the only way you thought to protect someone from hurt was to hurt them yourself?

She thought to tell him about her regression to her former Mossad line of thinking. Thought perhaps she should speak on her thoughts at the blast site and how seeing all of that had brought up long buried thoughts and feelings that she would rather leave buried.

She considered how he may think she were weak for allowing emotions to infiltrate her practiced calm and penetrate the walls she had so carefully constructed. She felt weak now, and saw no real reason why others should not see her in the same dark light she was seeing herself in.

Perhaps it would be better to just get the thoughts and feelings out in the open. Better to share her shame and disappointment so that he has one last opportunity to pull her from the Mission or rework the game plan if he needs to.

At least, then she would not be asking Gibbs to put his faith in her to handle the mission they were to start tomorrow while she was hiding her inner turmoil.

Decision made, she finally began to speak. "When I came back to NCIS and decided that I wanted to be a citizen there were things I hoped for in my 'new' life."

She sighed as she realized this was going to be more difficult than she had imagined. To his credit, Gibbs kept his head bowed to his work and didn't try to analyze her or even speak. He always knew how to make a tense situation easier and she felt herself relax into the situation as her intense focus went to the job of sanding and smoothing the surface of the wooden bars.

"I wanted to feel 'normal' and have a 'normal' life with all the things that people who are not ex-assassins and trained Mossad operatives have." each word seemed to come out easier as she spoke and she felt a weight lift as she slowly sanded and vented her pent up thoughts into the silence. "I realized last week that 'normal' is not a word I will ever be able to apply to myself."

He looked up at her briefly, but was right back to having his eyes on the assembly of the crib wall so fast she was certain he hadn't ascertained any vital information in the glance.

Either way, she felt herself breathe more evenly and focus on controlling the expression on her face and in her tone as she continued. "I was living under a pretense, going through the motions of something that I had no right to involve another person in." she sighed and placed the sanding block on the table to take a long drink from her bourbon, enjoying the slight burn as it went down, "The whole idea of this was silly and juvenile. We let our hormones rule over our common sense."

His quiet calm broke through the thoughts she had swirling through her head. "Didn't sound like DiNozzo was operating on hormones to me."

She was certain he could see the flash of emotion on her face at his subdued observation, but she wasn't able to stop the reaction or cover in time. She figured he would already figure the rest out on his own, so she continued, "He said he loves me."

"And that's when you left." he cut in, finishing for her, leaving her to simply nod in response. "You're scared." A statement that would normally sound accusatory or like an indictment of one's character was said with a level of calm understanding that made her uncomfortable.

She shook her head, unwilling to accept his line of reasoning. "I am practical and rational. I accept what little rationality there is in the world and that which is irrational I have no time for. That is not cowardice, it is logic."

"You know what he'd say right now, don't you?" he gave her a grin with a hint of the humor he was finding in watching her try and explain her way out after she had painted herself into a corner, "'He'd say stop acting like a Vulcan, you're human.' He'd probably follow it with some comment about being a Doctor not a something or other."

She couldn't help joining him with a fond smile. That did sound like something Tony would say.

Feeling as if she had a lot to think about she began working in silence.

It was a full refill on their drinks later before Gibbs finally broke the extended silence. "Agent Baylor is retiring in a couple months." The comment seemed out of place, but somehow Ziva knew what was coming and felt her heart beat faster before the words were even out of his mouth, "Tony asked me to recommend him for the team lead position."

"Pearl Harbor?" her voice was weak as she tried to contemplate what this meant, but only succeeded in restating her question, "Hawaii?"

xoxo

A/N: I am very grateful to luckysparks for asking about Ziva's thoughts and feelings on this subject, because I really love the idea of having this chapter. It would never have existed without you letting me know what did or didn't make sense.

For everyone who has had a question or just a thought on where this is going, keep your thoughts coming, because I won't know if my message got across unless you let me know. I know where this story is going, but that doesn't mean that chapters like this cannot be inspired from even the simplest comments.

Next up, I have to address some concerns I heard about from Pirate-Princess1 that something else wasn't clear: Next chapter, Florida.

Thanks for reading.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

"I could get used to this." Tony said, feeling like a kid in a candy store as he adjusted his heated leather seat to a full reclining position before moving it back up right.

Ziva rolled her eyes at him, but he could see the grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. She was obviously amused by his excitement, but he wasn't going to fight all the urges to experience every amenity of this flight.

He'd never been on plane like this. It was the height of technology; in the private jet world, this was the king of kings. He knew that he was to be a world traveller and they 'owned' this jet, so he put it down as research as he went through every square inch touching and fiddling with anything he could get his hands on.

"Check this out, Ziva." He called excitedly from the back of the plane. He saw her give him an impatient look as she laid her book down on the table near the reading nook where she had settled a few minutes after takeoff.

He was nearly as enthralled with watching her approach him as he had been by the item of interest he had called her over to review. He watched her hips swaying as the casual white sundress she wore moved fluidly around her with each step. He loved the look of white against her olive skin and felt a rush of excitement that had nothing to do with his most recent private jet discovery.

He clamped down the thoughts. He knew they were going to be pretending that their breakup had never happened, but he still knew the boundaries. He still knew it was all a big fake-out and in the end, he was sure to be even worse off than he had been after the first time.

He knew that no matter how they acted over the course of this mission, it was as much of a lie as their time together on sick leave had been. He knew when it was all over he would be getting that recommendation from Gibbs. Two more months of hell and he would be flying off to Hawaii, leaving his heart in D.C., because it was easier than looking across the office every day and seeing her. Watching her

Shaking off the thoughts as she stood at his side, looking around as if to figure out what silly gadget or tool or function he had found this time. No, it was definitely not the first time he had called her to check something out that was captivating him. To his surprise, she still came as if curious what his newest fascination was.

He put an arm around her shoulder and, though he felt her stiffen slightly at the gesture, a slip up that could cost them the mission in a few short hours; she leaned into him with only a split second's hesitation.

He led her a few paces to a love seat against one of the walls of the plane and they sat down together. "Check this out." He said with a grin as he pushed a button and the seat automatically reclined, the leg moving up as the back gently moved down.

Once they were reclined to a nearly laying position Tony squeezed her gently and gestured with his free hand towards the roof of the plane, "This is cool." He said, leaning towards the arm of the chair to find what he was looking for before tapping a couple of buttons.

The lights in the cabin slowly dimmed, and they watched together as the roof of the plane lit up directly above them.

"Is this. . .?" she started quietly.

"A movie screen." He cut her off with excitement in his voice. "It's like being at the theater, but more comfortable."

As if to prove his point she curled into his side, resting her head on his shoulder as he scanned through the movies stored on some internal hard drive. His heart beat faster from the easy familiarity. Even knowing it was temporary, didn't make the sensation of her so comfortably cuddled up to him any less electrifying.

He knew they didn't really have time for a full movie. He knew there were probably a hundred remarkable things he hadn't found on the plane yet, but he had lost his desire to go looking for them.

He picked a movie they had already seen so that they didn't get too bogged down in what was happening on screen and lay back enjoy the feeling of her breathing against his shirt, her bare shoulder under his hand and her soft flesh molded to his side.

This assignment was going to kill him, but moments like this would sustain him as he dealt with their inevitable separation at the end of this mission.

She felt his warm fingers rubbing gently across the skin on her shoulder, comforting and soothing, but at the same time building a fire of excitement in the pit of her stomach. He was so solid and warm against her body as she snuggled into his embrace. She felt his reluctance. Even though they had agreed to forget about the break-up they had with a few exceptions, she knew it was going to take a little adjusting to feel comfortable again.

Her mind was racing. He had so easily agreed to her stipulation that the contact and intimacy could return, but the sex and more erotic aspects of their relationship could not be resumed.

He had shrugged the suggestion off, as if it did not concern him in the least that she was no longer interested in him sexually. At this moment, as the movie started to play and she felt his warm breath on her scalp as he dropped a gentle kiss on her head, she wanted nothing more than to take advantage of this comfortably reclined love seat.

She shook the thought off. She had made her decisions and she needed to live with them. It was for the best, she knew that, but selfishly she snuggled a little closer and relished the way his grip tightened around her shoulders.

She felt her breath hitch in her throat as his hand started to roam lazily across the expanse of exposed skin on her back from the low cut sundress.

This assignment was going to kill her, but moments like this would sustain her as she dealt with their inevitable separation at the end of this mission.

xoxo

Abby allowed her disappointment to finally get the better of her as she kicked blindly, instantly frustrated with her sensible sneakers when her foot collided with the large piece of equipment in the middle of her 'new' lab in Miami.

She reminded herself that she had to make an effort to remember she didn't have steel-toed boots on.

After testing her foot to be sure she hadn't damaged anything, she moved around to examine the bullet catcher she had kicked.

"I'm sorry." She said, "It's not your fault that I'm stuck in here for who knows how long, bored out of my mind, banned from leaving the premises, my 'undercover mission' isn't as exciting as I thought, and I have to wear these ridiculous clothes." She patted the top of the large white cylinder as she soothed its wounded ego, wondering if a person can really go crazy from three hours of solitude.

She was certain she couldn't break the thing if she tried, but without this big metal cylinder and the comparison microscope, they would sink. "It's not that I don't think we're important," she continued speaking to the test box, "I just wish I knew coming in that I was going to be so peripheral as to be nearly useless and prisoner in this tiny lab with no one to talk to but you."

She let herself slump in a chair and examined her distorted reflection in the side of the steel cabinet. She noted her sour expression as she contemplated why she ever agreed to wear this ridiculous outfit. Jeans and a polo shirt, a freaking _Polo_ shirt with her hair pulled back in a tight bun and black rimmed glasses. She felt like a cross between a preppy college kid and a librarian and it made her itchy and uncomfortable.

In what world was this good undercover garb?

It took her about five minutes after arriving at this lab, to realize Gibbs had pulled a fast one on her. This was not an undercover assignment; it was a wear a lame outfit and hang out behind bullet-resistant glass windows pretending to doctor lab results assignment.

She knew Gibbs didn't think he could trust anyone else to keep Tony and Ziva safe and with a leak in federal or local police force, he didn't have too many options if they were going to play this so close to the vest.

No matter what his protective instincts were probably telling him, he had asked her to help anyway. It was a little disappointing, though. She had at least thought she'd get some sweet lab equipment to work with. These things were dinosaurs from the prehistoric ages of ballistic forensics.

She understood her mission and was sure it was an important job, but all her fairytale assumptions on undercover work had flown right out the window. She would be working with Tony and Ziva as an old friend. She was just there to process the weapons and look conspiratorial in the event Rodriguez's men had the couple under surveillance when they needed to doctor the guns they were selling.

Sure, she might get an opportunity to interact with someone if the cartel was overly interested or wanted more info on the entire process, but chances were she would spend the next week to a month in this space.

She had the lab, minimalistic at best, and through the back room, there was a bank of high-powered computers with huge wall monitors, That's where they would be overseeing the various public cameras to observe Tony and Ziva on the mission.

Of course, last night she and Tim had to 'test them out' and used the six fifty-two inch plasma monitors to play a first-person shooter game until the wee hours of the morning.

Off that room was a set of stairs heading to the second floor where they had a fully furnished modest two-bedroom apartment she was none too happy to be sharing with Gibbs and McGee.

On their own sharing with either would have been bearable, but Tim was very nervous about the sleeping arrangements. Tim had set his luggage on the couch, fully intent on sleeping there so as not to ruffle any feathers or cause any issues with Gibbs.

By the time they finally made their way up to bed last night, Gibbs was already asleep in the room he had picked out and Tim's luggage had been moved into the other room where it was lying next to Abby's at the foot of the bed.

His wide-eyed expression had made her chuckle, "He isn't one of the nuns, Tim. He knows what we're doing."

Tim gave her a sheepish look, "Not here, we aren't."

She was frustrated that she hadn't even had that to release the pent up tension of the situation. Of course, there was plenty of sweet cuddling and that was much preferred to knowing he was out in the living room while she slept alone in a cold bed because he was concerned what Gibbs might think.

She smiled as she heard the door open, "Finally!" she called, bounding over to Tim and grabbing the bags of food from his hands and laying them out over a large metal table. She couldn't stop the laugh as she saw his transformation for the first time.

If she thought her 'disguise' was bad, what Tim had to do on the off chance he was spotted through the windows was downright embarrassing. "That grey in your hair is a nice touch." She giggled, but at his glare she bit off the laugh, "You look distinguished." She managed to add with a straight face.

"I feel old." He responded with a glare as he started getting out their dinner. "And grungy." He added, looking down at his grey undershirt and worn flannel over shirt.

"The stubble is coming in nicely, though." Abby remarked, reaching up to run a finger over the prickly surface.

Tim scratched at his face, "It's itchy."

She leaned in to give him a quick kiss, "Kind of pokey, too." She said making a face.

"It'll get better as it grows out."

She felt a thrill through her as she gave him a devious smile, "Don't shave it until after I get a chance to experience all that your goatee has to offer."

She watched his eyes darken as he considered what she might mean by that. When she winked at him, he leaned in for a far more heated kiss. She put her hands on his chest and pushed him away with a smirk.

"I'm hungry." She said, turning back to the food.

Tim moved up behind her, bending his head to place tender kisses across her neck, "Me, too." He said huskily.

She knew he wasn't talking about lunch, "What about Gibbs?"

She felt him smile against her neck, "He's meeting Tony and Ziva at the airport."

Abby giggled, "That tickles." She said as she turned to face him and ran her fingers over his burgeoning facial hair.

She glanced back at Chinese takeout on the table as she grabbed him by a fistful of his shirt and started leading him towards the stairs, "The food can wait."

xoxo

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this. I'd love to hear what you think.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

"We are preparing for our final decent into Miami International Airport." The captain called over the intercom.

Reluctantly, Ziva disentangled herself from Tony and moved back to one of the upright seats to buckle in for the landing. This was it, no more mistakes, game faces on.

"Ella," Tony said as he lowered himself into a seat next to her and it took her a moment to realize he was speaking to her, "shall we get our stuff to the hotel and hit the town for some dinner?"

"Ella?" she asked with an eyebrow raised at him.

Tony just shrugged in response, "I gotta call you something and I'm not using that ridiculously long name they gave you."

"I think it's our out in a tricky situation. With an accent the end of Elishiva sounds almost identical to Ziva, so in the event you slip up. . ." She let her sentence trail off so he could finish the thought in his own head, but gave him a smile to let him know she wasn't saying that to imply that he would be anything but professional and complete the mission without a mishap.

"I know, but I like the nicknames I can throw in with Ella better." He gave her a waggle of his eyebrows and she felt her own eyes rolling in response.

"Nicknames, as in more than one?" she sighed, "If you choose to play the game name, I will be forced to come up with something suitably ridiculous."

He just shook his head in response, "It's the 'name game' and give me your best shot, Ella, mia bella."

"Whichever way it is said." Ziva dismissed the correction. He was pulling out the Italian. She didn't know whether to be bothered by the compliment or not, so she chose to ignore it. "Are you ready?"

Tony just nodded. She saw the hint of apprehension in his eyes, but he didn't let the feeling move any further onto his features as he gave her a wide grin, "As I'll ever be."

Once the plane landed they were taxied into a private hangar where the jet would be stored in the even they needed it again. As they disembarked, Tony had a hand at her elbow, helping her down the stairs. She heard him chuckle and followed his gaze to the limo that was waiting for them. Standing next to the car in a classic chauffer uniform, right down to the ridiculous hat, was Gibbs.

Gibbs held the door for them while they climbed in. Tony had gestured her in first and she caught the amused expression on his face as he followed directly behind her.

While Gibbs loaded their luggage in the trunk, they got situated and waited in a comfortable silence. The air was heavy with jokes that Tony was certainly dying to make and fighting not to say all at the same time.

Gibbs moved to the driver's seat and started driving. As they turned out of the airport, Gibbs lowered the tinted window separating the back from the front and briefly looked over his shoulder. "We're clear. We got a jamming device in the car in the event later someone decides they want to know what you're saying in here, so this is probably going to be the only place we can talk freely after you set things in motion tonight."

"Hey Boss, they couldn't spring for a flight attendant on the plane?" Tony asked, obviously the safest joke he could come up with that didn't involve mocking their boss for that silly hat.

Gibbs did not acknowledge the comment, he simply said, "Ziva." As if he were finishing an order and she reached out a hand to smack him across the back of the head. Gibbs nodded his approval and continued driving them towards their hotel. "We put you up in a bungalow at the Shore Club Resort in South Beach. That alone will probably end up costing more than a year of your pay by the time we're done."

Tony was not deterred by the reprimand, "We could save money on that and just sleep on the plane. That is one sweet set up. You should have seen it, Boss, there was this massage chair that was heated and -" Gibbs cut him off with a glare in the rearview mirror."

Ziva considered what Tony had said, "That might not be a bad idea, Gibbs, if things get complicated. From a defensive standpoint that hangar would be easier to watch and secure."

Gibbs seemed to consider this, but just shrugged in response as he pulled up in front of the hotel and moved to let them out.

Tony immediately started over as if to help Gibbs carry their stuff in, but caught the look from his boss just in time. Immediately he turned back to Ziva and slipped an arm around her waist. They talked quietly and laughed together as they headed inside to check in.

Gibbs trailed behind gathering their luggage onto a cart that a bellhop had brought over on seeing the number of bags coming out of the trunk. He observed them and felt his previous doubts fade as he took in the easy way they seemed to move into the Hotel, looking like a deeply happy couple. They were a striking pair and he could see that the ease of their movement and the air of confidence radiating off of them was already garnering attention from several people in the Hotel lobby

They moved through the hotel as if it were nothing new, casually getting their keycards and following the bellhop out to a private walkway.

Tony didn't change his casual tone or the leisurely pace as they moved through the private walkway and out to the secluded bungalow. Ziva knew that inside Tony was screaming to talk about how amazing these amenities were.

She caught the way his eyes scanned over the pool, the architecture, the view and while his expression remained casual, she noticed the delighted glint in his eyes.

Once the bellhop had received his tip and they were alone, Tony swept her into his arms and spun her around, finally releasing the delight he had been harboring since they walked into the hotel lobby. "This is the coolest assignment ever." He said, releasing her and turning to inspect the two-story cottage.

Ziva couldn't help the smile that lit her face, but shook her head a moment later at how easily he was amused when she heard him calling for her excitedly from the second floor.

An hour later, they were finally unpacked into the spacious closets and Tony had disappeared into the bathroom to get dressed while she looked through the closet again trying to figure out what to wear.

She couldn't decide between a strapless red evening gown and a black cocktail dress and was staring at the two options laid across the bed when he came back into the room.

She felt a warm thrill through her as she took in his choice for the evening. His pants were tight in all the right places, black and form fitting. He wore a black silk shirt with gold pinstripes; open at the neck making her want to run her fingers over the hair peeking out the low V on his chest.

"You're not even dressed." He said in faux shock. "Wow, you're more of a girl than you let on." He added teasingly as he moved past her and started going through the closet. "Put this on." He said, passing her one of the garments.

"I was going to wear one of these." She replied, gesturing towards the bed.

"Now you're wearing this." He responded putting the garment in her hands and guiding her towards the bathroom.

She gave him a glare, but feeling the fabric on her fingers and remembering just the way it flowed when she moved, she knew he was right.

He was lying back on the bed, watching TV when she came out of the bathroom and he gave an appreciative whistle, "That'll work." He said simply and gestured toward the foot of the bed where he had laid out a pair of shoes to match the dress. "Normally I think yellow is a horrible color, but on you. . ." he trailed off, letting his eyes wander lasciviously down and back up her body.

She rolled her eyes at him and turned away so she didn't have to see the heat in his eyes. Lowering herself to the bed, she started slipping on the heels he had put out for her.

She twitched when she felt him move up behind her and place his hands on her shoulders. He swept the flowing curls of her hair to the side and his warm breath moved across her neck before his lips made contact with the sensitive flesh behind her ear.

"What are you doing?" she asked on a breathless whisper.

He chuckled against her neck and she felt what could only be his tongue snaking a light trail down her neck, "Trying to loosen you up. You flinch like that at the wrong time and we're toast."

Ziva couldn't help the hint of irritation in her voice as she pulled away from him, "I will not be a problem out there. In here I expect you to respect my personal space."

She turned to him just to be met with a suggestive smile that he didn't get in place in time to mask the hurt in his eyes.

xoxo

Gibbs walked into the control room after parking the limo in an underground garage down the street and changing out of that ridiculous chauffer uniform.

Abby and Tim were already reviewing video from the hotel, a couple of shots from traffic cameras in the area and a couple more from inside and outside of Club Hysteria.

Hysteria was a club, two blocks from the Shore Club Resort and only a block from their current location. It is where several of their suspects spent their nights partying.

Their focus tonight would be Jose Esposito, right hand man of Carlos Rodriguez younger brother to the suspected Rodriguez gang kingpin.

Carlos was relatively peripheral to the operation from all the data they had gathered. From reviewing various FBI reports and the court cases that had been attempted against the cartel, they could clearly deduce that Carlos was not nearly as important a piece of the cartel as his older brother Eduardo was. That made Carlos' errand boy Jose the perfect point of contact to get in.

He was not high enough in the operation to be concerned about why they would come to him instead of just worrying how nice it would be for his own career to have the kind of connections that Tony and Ziva brought to the table.

"What are the alternative shots? I want as many eyes as we can get tonight." Gibbs asked, stopping short as he caught sight of McGee. "Not bad." He said and watched the younger man brush a hand subconsciously across the grey at his temples.

"Couldn't I have just gone blonde or something?" Tim asked.

Gibbs shook his head, "Would have made that peach fuzz look out of place."

Abby hid her smile at the interaction, "They take security very seriously. Getting a ghost feed off the cameras was tricky." She started flipping through the various camera angles. "There are three security cameras inside the club, one out front, one in the back, and two with a view of the parking lot."

"We'll be able to have eyes on them from the hotel all the way through the night at the club and back." McGee added. "We just don't have audio."

"We have the next best thing, though." Gibbs said, reaching over to pat Abby on the shoulder. "You do your best to keep us in the loop on what they're all talking about."

Abby looked at the screen with apprehension, "You do know how hard it is to read lips from a video of this distance, right?"

Gibbs just shrugged, "Do your best." He responded.

The completed their preparation and were watching and waiting for signs of their intended targets at the club when Tim finally broke the long silence, "Here we go." He said and they looked to the screen that was displaying the hotel lobby.

Abby let out a whistle as the couple made their way through the foyer and disappeared off that screen to turn up again on the camera from the outside of the hotel. "Next time I want the hot undercover clothes."

Twin nods met her comment, but she was certain the nods were in agreement with the assessment that Tony and Ziva looked remarkably sexy and not because she was going to be granted any kind of starring role in a future undercover operation.

xoxo

A/N: I feel like this is all moving very slowly, but I know there are things that I need to get through and I can't just jump ahead to the action because I think that will be more fun and exciting to write, soooo… stick with me, guys, we'll get there.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

The heat seemed to permeate his entire being. It had been a long time since Tony had been out to this type of nightclub and he had forgotten just how much heat all these bodies moving together could generate.

Having Ziva, in that short yellow dress with spaghetti straps, sitting next to him with her legs cross towards him and his fingers running gently up and down the patch of skin above her knee, definitely wasn't helping the situation. Nor was her finger trailing lightly over the chest hair in the V of his shirt as she leaned towards him.

They had positioned themselves at the bar. Tony had a view of the front door and Ziva had the back way covered in the event they were more familiar and came through the service doors. To the casual observer it would appear they only had eyes for each other, but they were in fact diligently monitoring the entrances over the other's shoulder.

Tony caught sight of Carlos and Jose as they strolled into the club with a small group of others surrounding them. He recognized several of the men from their dossiers, but a couple he could not place.

Deciding on an opportunity to get a private word with Ziva amongst the loud throbbing beat of the Latin music, he finished the first drink he had been nursing and held his hand out to her cocking his head towards the dance floor.

She took the offered hand with a smile on her face and a hint of mischief in her eyes and let him lead her away from their seats.

The bass beat was strong and the music was fast. They could feel the excitement in the crowd around them as they made their way out to the dance floor through. The pressing crowd and writhing bodies pushed them close, but after a moment, he had maneuvered them into a bit of open area, where they were at least not shoulder-to-shoulder with the other dancers.

He pulled Ziva to him with a hand on her lower back. Tony had been raised with training in classic ballroom dancing thanks to his mom being a huge fan of men knowing how to move. It didn't hurt when his dad gave him a heart-to-heart about how much women love a man who could dance. Even with a ballroom background, he had a lot more experience with modern clubbing than a man his age probably should.

He led her for a moment, but she took initiative and began to move in a very unladylike and extremely sexy way, never losing the beat of the music. He was impressed, thinking he may have had to go easy on her, lead her through, but as he matched her moves, she would surprise him again.

They never managed to get more than a few inches of space between their bodies, but they continued to dance and the heat building in him from sitting at the bar had now become sweltering. He almost couldn't breathe from the fire boiling through him as she turned and bent suggestively at the waist giving him a sexy smile over her shoulder as she rose up slowly, her hands leisurely trailing up her body.

He moved behind her before she was standing fully and reached around her to grab the offending hands and stop the onslaught on his sense. When her hips swiveled suggestively against him, he spun her to face him and suddenly they were locked in a traditional Salsa stance.

Long buried nights of dance class came back to him, in an instant. They spent several minutes in a heated stare as Salsa met modern hip-hop and their movements stayed remarkably in sync.

It was as if they had spent years perfecting this amalgamation of the two dance styles together, the easy rhythm, the fluid motion, the comfort, familiarity and heat. He had to give it some credence. As sexual as their movements on the dance floor were, they had been participating in a very serious, seemingly related dance for years before tonight.

Guiding her head back, he lowered his mouth to the flesh near her collarbone and let his hot breath move over her skin in quick bursts. He watched the goose bumps crop up in the path he had taken, slowly moving up before nipping her ear between his teeth and whispering, "He's finally settled." before throwing her back away from him only to drag her back by their still clasped hands.

As she snapped back to him, her left leg shot up to rest against the side of his hip and on instinct he grabbed the limb, holding it tightly to his side as she leaned into him suggestively. Her right hand snaked into his hair, pulling his head to the side and leaning towards his neck, all in time to the pulsing throb of the music.

"I got eyes on four in the party packing weapons." She responded.

He took back the lead and spun her with him, his head bent so their hot cheeks were touching and his lips nearly brushed her ear as he responded, "You missed one, four o'clock."

With their cheeks in constant contact he could feel the smile that he couldn't see on her face as she responded, "He is not with them. That is an FBI agent if I have ever seen one."

Tony pulled back and adjusted her in his grasp, letting his eyes bore into hers and she didn't break his gaze as he ran through the snippets of the room he had picked up as they had been twirling suggestively on the dance floor.

The man in question definitely hadn't arrived with the others and now that she mentioned it, he was hanging out in the corner not looking as if he was having much fun at all. Rewinding and replaying the scene he had witnessed, the man appeared to be nursing the same glass since the first time Tony had spotted him. While he was definitely dressed for the nightclub scene, he was certainly out of place. "That's a problem." Tony said into her ear as they continued moving.

"We need to take him out before we can even do anything here." She responded.

It was then that the song ended. For the first time, the two seemed to notice exactly how much room had been afforded to them by the various others dancing in their vicinity. Several couples turned and clapped in their direction as the next song began blaring through the speakers. Tony and Ziva gave a head nod as acknowledgement as she grabbed his hand and began leading him off the dance floor again.

When he dug in his heals as if he didn't think it was a good idea to leave the floor just yet, she leaned into him and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek before informing him, "I need a drink and we need to figure this out."

He nodded sagely in response and with a huge grin followed her back out of the throngs of people toward the bar again.

xoxo

"Wow." Abby said on a heavy breath. "I think I need a cigarette after that."

She knew the glare she was sure to be getting from Gibbs, but chose to ignore that in lieu of the smile Tim had in reaction to her comment even though he didn't pull his eyes off the screen for a single moment.

She had been able to catch most of what Tony and Ziva had been saying, but she knew she had missed something important. While McGee took over watching the activity in the club, Abby pulled up another angle on their conversation to decipher what Ziva had said that made Tony agree they had a problem.

It took her nearly as long as it took Tony and Ziva to get service in the overly busy club, but by the time they were pulling up seats with fresh drinks in their hands, she was turning towards Gibbs with worry in her heart. "The FBI's in there, possibly undercover."

"Damn." Gibbs responded, followed shortly with, "Do they have a plan?"

Abby couldn't help the little grin, as her friends were exactly who they always were, Tony was goofy, Ziva was scary, Tim was a geek and Gibbs was pushy and overprotective. Tonight, they were all being themselves so when she had read the words that rolled off Ziva's lips she hadn't been the least bit surprised, "Ziva said they need to take him out."

"Aw, hell." Gibbs responded, hoping Ziva didn't blow the mission right here by getting arrested. "Get Vance on the phone, McGee, see if he can pull some strings and get that guy out of there before he blows this whole thing."

"On it, Boss." McGee said, pulling out his phone and dialing.

"Wait." Abby said, "They're moving."

McGee stopped dialing and moved his eyes back to the screen.

As they watched, Abby read their lips and translated the conversation, "They seem to have come to an agreement on something. Ziva said, 'Follow my lead.' and they appear to be approaching for contact."

"It's too early." McGee said, before a tense silence fell in the control room as they watched the unplanned events on the screen unfold.

The couple sashayed through the crowds and approached the roped off VIP section where the Rodriguez men were drinking and carrying on with several very scantily clad women.

Tony stood a pace behind while Ziva leaned over the plush red rope and gestured with a finger for Jose to come talk to her. The man approached tentatively, his eyes wandering down her body like a predator sizing up its prey.

Ziva leaned in and whispered something in the man's ear, her hand snaking up and into his pocket. "He asked here, 'Where?'.'"

"Get me another angle." Gibbs snapped.

As McGee watched live action of Ziva gesturing subtly towards the FBI agent, Abby pulled up an angle where Ziva's face could be seen and took the tape back a little.

"She said, 'We heard you were the guy to talk to about some lucrative business opportunities, but you have some company and we don't play well with feds.' That's probably when he asked his question and she responded, 'call us if you lose the tail.' It looks like she slipped him their business card; I'll enhance it later. Uh-oh. . ."

Gibbs didn't like the sound of that, "What?" he asked impatiently.

"She just told him, 'unless you want us to handle that little problem as a sign of faith.' How does she think we can take out an FBI agent in the middle of an operation? Especially when we can't just tell the FBI what we're up to because they might be responsible for the leak. She's going to get herself arrested or something." Abby was definitely worried about the kind of impromptu deals their friend was making.

"Damn it." Gibbs responded and watched as Tony and Ziva moved back to the bar for a quick shot thinking it was a good thing they could hold their liquor. Of course they had really only had two and a half drinks in the past three hours and were well below the legal limit.

The couple moved back out to the dance floor, apparently oblivious to the eyes that were now following them with snake-like intensity. They resumed their heated dance from several minutes before and seemed to only have eyes for each other as they moved enthusiastically against each other and around the floor, clearing some area for themselves as they proceeded to show off their passion to the rest of the room, but looking completely oblivious to everyone in it.

Knowing exactly how perceptive they had been during the first dance, Gibbs had no doubts that they were anything but wrapped up in each other despite the perception they were putting off.

"They know he's watching them, Ziva just confirmed it." Abby spoke into the quiet of the room and all three sets of eyes watched as Tony stopped dancing in mid motion.

He pulled Ziva's body flush against his and buried his other hand in her hair. He tipped Ziva's head back and leaned into her for a seemingly spontaneous, heated kiss as their hips and feet continued to move to the rhythm of the music.

The pair grinned at each other as they pulled away, "She said, 'Let's get out of here.'" Abby confirmed the action on screen. Ziva grabbed Tony's hand and led him out of the club.

They watched the simultaneous screen shots as Tony and Ziva blended into the late night traffic on the street outside the club, knowing they probably spotted what they had seen. Esposito had gestured for one of the guards to move with him and they followed shortly behind Tony and Ziva, exiting the club several feet behind the agents.

"They know their being followed right?" Abby asked in apprehension.

Gibbs could only nod as he watched Tony sweep Ziva into another passionate kiss and pulled her off the sidewalk. "They must. Get me an angle on the alley!" Gibbs shouted, none too pleased that his agents had stepped out of view.

McGee's fingers were flying over the keys on the keyboard, various shots flashed quickly over one of the monitors as he scanned through multiple traffic cameras, other business security cameras, even an ATM camera down the street they had tapped into, "We can't get a shot down that way, Boss."

The three watched as Esposito and his guard looked around the thinning crowds on the street before turning to slowly follow Tony and Ziva down the darkened alley.

xoxo

A/N: Sorry to leave you all hanging, but the next one is a little longer than I can tack onto the end of this. I should have that up sometime tomorrow. Thanks.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Warning, this chapter may be a little racy for some. I'm warning you now, but it's nothing you wouldn't see on network television, which isn't saying much when you consider the state of network TV.

Chapter 18

Tim's heart was racing as he watched the event unfold in front of them. He had seen the way Tony dragged Ziva into the alley and shortly afterwards they were followed by two known gang members down the dark recesses of the passageway.

Abby was able to pull up an angle that gave them a view about six feet into the darkness, and just where the light faded sharply along the edge of the view they could see two pairs of feet. From the shoes and clothing, they could tell it was the two Rodriguez men who had entered just behind their agents.

The men seemed to be standing there without much movement, and Tim felt a hint of relief that perhaps they were having an impromptu meeting in the alleyway. If this were going to be a shootout or some kind of fight, they wouldn't be standing stock still as they were.

"They aren't moving." Abby noted unnecessarily.

"They must be having some kind of conversation." Tim agreed before adding with frustration, "I wish we had ears in there."

Gibbs was hovering and Tim could feel his boss' frustration with the agents breaking the plan they had so carefully put into motion, "Just give them a few, they can handle this." The tone of their Boss' voice brokered no argument, but Tim could hear the edge in it.

He suspected Gibbs had been talking himself out of action as much as trying to calm him and Abby. He knew if it weren't for the fact that Tony and Ziva could still potentially salvage this intrusion of the FBI, than Gibbs would be out the door and down the block to check on things himself.

Instead, the man stood behind Tim, radiating tension and watching the feet on the screen stand stock still in place.

After what seemed ages, one of the pairs of shoes started moving, and the guard who had left the club with Esposito moved back out of the alleyway and made his way back into the club.

Tim intently watched the guard's progression on another monitor, hoping he hadn't gone in for back up. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the man rejoined the group and casually sit back observing the crowd. He seemed alert for threats from inside the club, the alley obviously not weighing on his mind.

That meant the legs they could still barely see standing on the edge of their screen belonged to Jose Esposito.

Esposito barely shifted, barely moved and that seemed to indicate they must have been having a leisurely discussion. There was nothing tense or shifty, no nervous shuffling of his feet. After several long minutes, he turned and walked out of the alley, alone.

xoxo

Ziva could hear her heart pounding in her chest. She knew Esposito and one of the thugs from the club were following them and her mind was spinning with a million thoughts on why Tony would take them down a dark deserted alley.

Knowing she couldn't ask him outright because the man following them might overhear them, she just gripped his hand more firmly as he continued to lead her into the dark shadows of the alleyway.

About halfway down the alley he pulled her into a small alcove and trapped her against the service door for one of the buildings. "What are you doing?" She said on a whisper across his ear as he leaned down to ravage her neck.

He slowly worked his way up to her ear before breathlessly responding, "What better way to convince them we're not feds than to do something cops never would."

He pulled back enough to move his lips to hers and made short work of her resolve with the way he hungrily took complete control of her mouth and the situation.

The heat of their dance still throbbed through her body and the way he was kissing her now would surely drive her insane. She had nearly forgotten about the two men who had followed them, until she pulled away from him on a gasp.

She let her eyes fly open before slamming back closed as his lips moved back to her neck. It was long enough to see the two men had stopped only a few feet into the alley and were watching the two from a distance.

Knowing they were far enough away that even her heated whisper wouldn't carry she told him, "They are watching us."

He pulled away to wink at her before responding, "Does that make you hot?"

She ground her hips into his feeling the obvious evidence of the effect their proximity was having on him, "It makes you hot." She answered in a voice that she would have liked to come out teasing, but sounded more like a moan.

She kicked herself for the butterflies in her stomach when he gave her a heated grin, bigger than any smile she had seen in days, "That's not for them, it's for you."

His voice was husky and made her knees weak. He had just made it completely clear that this wasn't just about the mission; this was about them. She could feel the intensity of the situation quickly spiraling out of control as his hands moved from her hips, gently up so that his thumbs grazed the side of her breast.

An involuntary moan escaped her throated and Tony crushed his lips against hers more forcefully, shifting his legs so that his thigh was pressing against her in a way that was going to drive her crazy in no time.

Another quick check in her peripheral vision told her they were still being watched as she started rocking against his thigh and untucking his shirt so she could run her fingers up over his skin.

She felt him twitch under her touch and his hot breath was coming now in fast bursts as it had while they were dancing. They hadn't moved more than a few inches in several minutes, so it was obviously not exertion that was making him breathless as it had been on the dance floor.

"You drive me crazy." He said as he pulled from her lips to watch her eyes.

He moved a hand up to rub boldly across one of her nipples and she felt her eyes flutter closed and her cheeks flush with heat. She moved her hips, rubbing against his thigh again and gasped at the sudden realization that she was so close to her own satisfaction from this little contact with him.

Tony was enthralled with watching her face and he knew what that hitch in her breathing meant. His smile became mischievous as he moved his thigh away from where she seemed to want it most and more firmly cupped her breast in his hand.

He let his other hand trail down from her hip until he met bare flesh where the short skirt ended. Slowly he let his fingers trail back up, the skirt of the dress moving up with his fingers until he was resting his hand back on her hip. This time his hand was on heated flesh without barriers.

She knew this was wrong. The time, the place, the person under her hands against her mouth, and the blood rushing through her veins. Everything was wrong, but it felt like the most right thing she had done in over a week.

They were in the middle of a mission. They were supposed to be convincing the men down the alleyway that they weren't cops, not actually getting all worked up and taking things this far.

She briefly regained her senses on the tail of that thought, but just as quickly, she was swept under again, as his talented mouth attacked that spot on her neck that he knew drove her crazy.

"The guard just left." She managed to pant out on a breath of a whisper.

The words had him stilling in front of her, his eyes boring into hers as if seeking answers for questions he wasn't able to voice.

Was she playing him again? She didn't know the answer to that question. She thought she knew what she wanted, but actually having him here again seemed to sweep all logical thoughts from her brain.

She wanted to close her eyes against the questions, but seemed unable to. She was instantly pissed at herself for not being strong enough to pull her gaze from his as she watched something shift behind his eyes. His expression was unchanged, but suddenly his eyes gave her the impression he had shut down inside.

That expression, his blank, hard eyes, set something loose in her and she felt like crying at the pain that she had obviously caused him. Trying to avoid the worst had done nothing more than turn her into the bad guy; made her the one who crushed him when they could have waited it out and she would never have had to see this look cross his face.

This wasn't her Tony; this was a shell of the man she knew.

It finally all made sense. In her attempt to prevent this deep hurt from ever affecting him, she had blindly been the one to do it. She had taken his heart, one that was not given easily, and thrown it away without serious thought as to what she was doing.

She felt her tenuous hold on her emotions slipping further out of her grasp as she leaned into him and pressed a soft, shaky kiss to his lips.

She felt the moment of hesitation before he leaned into her more fully, pressing her against the door and returning her kiss with a level of passion that had obviously been subdued as they worked through this charade.

Now that she was conveying to him that she wasn't pretending just for the op, she felt him tremble under her fingers and heard his breathing increase as his hands began to roam freely over her heated skin.

Tony didn't know if he should believe what her trembling lips were telling him, but couldn't stop the chill that ran down his spine at the gentle contact. He couldn't believe how fast they had gone from him wondering how long she would let him do this to her before she broke his arm to him knowing that if he didn't have her, right here and right now he just might suffocate from the intensity of need and want that filled every dark corner of this alley.

He couldn't bring himself to care that they had company watching over his shoulder. This was a dark alcove and all he was bound to see were shadows from how far away he was standing. It was as if she realized the same thing at just that moment as she arched her back and pushed her body flush against his.

He felt her breath, panting across his cheek as his hands found her waist. His fingers dug into the curve of her hips, and suddenly he was lifting her so she could wrap her legs around his hips.

They both groaned in unison at the contact and the sudden realization that only a couple of layers of clothing stood in the way of being right where they wanted to be. She rocked against him gently and he saw her eyes flutter closed. He knew that expression, knew she was close and he wanted nothing more than to push her over the edge.

He felt his breath hitch as one of her hands moved to his belt.

He pulled back to look in her eyes, mission all but forgotten as he took in the heavy-lidded expression on her face, her swollen lips tempting him back to them as he felt her hands deftly open the clasp on his belt.

Despite his growing need to have her touch him, he placed his hand over hers stopping the motion.

"Wait." He gasped out and looked into her eyes, noting the desire that overwhelmed every other hint of expression in her features and it became a trial to pull away from her in that moment.

He found himself suddenly frustrated with this situation. Frustrated with the fact that they were not anywhere near a bed and that they had someone watching them. That look on her face was a precursor to his favorite of her expressions. Even in the dark, he had no desire to share her or that expression with anyone.

"Do you mind?" Tony snapped angrily turning to look over his shoulder, glaring at Esposito once his breath had finally calmed.

Esposito merely grinned at him. "You get rid of that Fed and come back tomorrow. We'll talk." With that, the man spun on his heel and strode away, the sound of his laughter floated back through the darkness to them.

Tony turned back to see reality starting to sink in as Ziva's cheeks flushed with color that had nothing to do with the passion of a moment before and everything to do with where that passion had taken them both.

They had been reduced to rutting in an alley like a couple of stray cats and instantly he felt like this could have gone a million times better in any place other than here.

He hoped they could continue this when they got back to the hotel, but something about her guarded expression worried him that this would stay here in this dark place.

He helped her adjust her dress and smooth her hair, but as he tucked his shirt back into his pants he couldn't help but think she looked just like they had finished what they started and when they walked out of here everyone else would think so, too.

"I have an idea." She responded. As she started making her way out of the alley, she undid all the work they had just done to fix her hair. She was still converting the hair on her head to a tangled mess when she stepped near the mouth of the alleyway.

Before stepping fully into the light he watched her reach up and rip the side of her dress. The thin material separated nearly to her hip and she had to pull her elbow in close to her side to keep from being completely exposed. Before he knew it, she was moving back towards the club.

He followed behind a pace and once they were back inside, he watched as she flagged down a bouncer near the main entrance.

Tony couldn't hear what Ziva was saying to the towering wall of muscle in a black shirt. If the meathead's stone-cold pissed expression was any indication, it was nothing good.

He watched her gesture into the bar and then back towards him and he simply nodded at the bouncer when he got a once over, because he didn't really know what was going on.

A moment later, Ziva was turning back to him and burying her face in his shoulders. He had caught a glimpse of her eyes, glistening with unshed tears and he wrapped her in his arms protectively as he watched the bouncer move away. The towering man in the black t-shirt looked small compared to the other bouncer he waved over.

Together the two men approached the FBI agent who still sat at the corner booth. Before they finally reached the agent, Ziva was pulling him back out of the club and taking his hand in hers to walk back towards their hotel.

Tony was fairly certain they were not being followed this time, but he slung his arm over her shoulder and pulled her in close as they slowly made their way back to their bungalow. "That's a shame." He said with a grin on his face, "I really liked that dress."

xoxo

A/N: I may not be able to get an update tomorrow. However, we are experiencing a blizzard warning tonight. Perhaps I'll get snowed in and not have to go to work, then I can just hang out and write all day. Otherwise, I should have something up on Wednesday. Thanks for reading. Hope I didn't offend your sensibilities with this one.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Once inside the hotel, all Tony could think about was how much he wanted to finish sending that yellow dress to its grave, but how pissed Gibbs was going to be if they didn't make contact immediately for an update.

"I'll call for the limo while you get changed and we can go get some dinner." He told Ziva as he started for the living room and she headed upstairs.

She changed quickly, putting on the black dress she had picked earlier because it matched the shoes she was already wearing. She ran a brush through her hair as she reflected on the evening.

She wasn't sure about Tony's mood. As soon as they were inside the hotel, it was as if he were distancing himself from her again. She began to wonder if what had happened outside these walls had been as real to him as it had seemed to her at the time. She thought she may have misinterpreted his actions and it really was all about the mission.

As she made her way back downstairs she contemplated whether every touch, every move, every word had been for the benefit of their target. Thought perhaps she should stop being so unprofessional and just accept that she ruined the one pure thing she had going in her crazy life.

Tony met her at the bottom of the stairs and something about the way he looked her over made her feel oddly nervous. Perhaps it was his furrowed brow or the his apparent scrutiny that had her running her hands down her hair and looking down at her dress to see if anything was out of place. "What?" She asked and when he simply cocked her head to the side continuing to examine her with that perplexing expression she continued, "Do I not look ok?"

"No," he responded, before disarming her with that charming grin of his when she glared at him, "That's better than OK." He winked and held his arm out for her.

Ziva felt her glare falter and then took his offered arm to head out to the lobby and wait for their limo. They strolled leisurely down the private walkway, past the pool, and into the main hotel. By the time they reached the lobby Gibbs was pulling up outside in the limo.

Tony and Ziva continued their casual conversation about the joys of a warm spring evening as they climbed in the limo and Gibbs drove them away from the hotel.

"We got a meeting with Esposito tomorrow night." Ziva piped up, interrupting Tony midsentence.

"He wants to meet at the club, but you think we could have the car ready in case we're able to lure him away or if the FBI comes back?" Tony added.

Gibbs glanced over his shoulder briefly as he continued to drive, "If they come back it won't be that same guy. His cover is completely blown." Gibbs turned in to a local restaurant and parked the large car through two spaces. "Thanks to you two he had to break out his badge in the middle of the club just to try and get the bouncers off him and they still threw him out on his ass."

Gibbs turned in his seat to look more directly at them, "Abby couldn't get a shot on your face to see what you were saying, but from the way the bouncers talked to him we're sure we got the idea."

"What _did_ you tell them?" Tony asked, having finally remembered his prior curiosity.

Ziva shrugged as she considered the two men, "That he showed me his badge and said I had to do what he said. When I didn't, he tried to make me, but you stopped him and he went back inside."

Tony scoffed, "That's not even believable."

"Must have been, 'cause it worked, DiNozzo." Gibbs responded as he stepped out of the car, before poking his head back in the door, "We called your order in, I'll pick it up and you can eat in the car while we finish this." Gibbs slammed the door and she watched him disappear inside.

Tony turned towards her when they finally found themselves alone. His expression could only be interpreted as fuming. "It wasn't believable because he didn't have a mark on him. FBI or not, I would have killed him."

From the look in his eyes, she was certain he was not just saying that, but he actually believed it. "I would have done it myself." She responded, her eyes slipping away from his intense expression to watch the door where Gibbs had disappeared.

She felt his fingers on her cheek, turning her face to his, "I wouldn't let anyone hurt you."

She bit her lip as she took in his serious express, wanting to turn away again. As his words reverberated in her head, she couldn't stop the anger that the simple statement elicited in her, "Until you leave, then I will have some new Probie watching my six."

His look of confusion would have been believable if she didn't have the knowledge that Gibbs had given her. "What are you talking about?"

He actually sounded confused and that made her wonder if Gibbs had possibly been mistaken. She brushed off the thought as soon as she had it and considered who had given her the information, "You do not have to pretend, Tony. I know about Pearl Harbor."

Tony didn't know how to respond to that.

Her saying that he was leaving had confused him. It wasn't the words as much as the fact that she said them in that voice she used when she was trying to keep emotion out of her words, while her eyes were screaming at him. Then her comment about some Probie watching her back had struck him speechless.

As selfish as the act of running to Hawaii was, he hadn't considered the affect that could ultimately have on everyone else.

He felt at a loss for words as he thought about what he would do if something happened to her because he wasn't there to watch her back. Together or not together, he couldn't stop protecting her just because he was feeling personally squashed.

It wouldn't be his first time burying his own feelings so that others could stay happy and safe.

Tony was surprised to realize that they had sat in edgy silence for several minutes as she looked out the front window and he stared blankly out the tinted side window. Gibbs closing his door after getting in snapped him out of it and now the moment to discuss this was gone.

He could tell by the tense set of her shoulders and the tone in her voice as she fully debriefed Gibbs that the conversation was over. They discussed the case and started a game plan for the following night as Gibbs drove them through town.

Eventually, he dropped them back at the Shore Club resort and pulled away.

Gibbs was getting frustrated with his agents. He had no idea what had gone on in the car while he had been inside getting dinner, but it was something that made his gut start talking. He felt the tension when he got in, and he knew the expressions on each of their faces.

Tony had obviously said or done something hurtful. He was sitting in the backseat, lopsided grin on as they talked through the case and he made jokes that didn't reach his eyes. He seemed to be trying too hard and covering for something he obviously didn't want to talk about.

Ziva confirmed his suspicion by ignoring Tony and maintaining a level tone.

To an outside observer she would have sounded professional and thorough, but Gibbs knew her too well. He knew them both too well. Something was up and he hoped they would figure out a way to work through it before tomorrow or they would be putting this operation back in jeopardy themselves this time.

xoxo

"I'm going to kill him." Abby fumed, as McGee approached her pacing the upstairs apartment. He had left her alone, gave her plenty of time to work out her frustration with the conversation that Tony and Ziva had in the back of the limo.

Sure, Gibbs had already told Tony and Ziva that they couldn't be overheard, but he meant by someone else, not their own listening devices. Sure, it was a lot like spying on a private conversation that the two thought they were having alone, but he couldn't feel bad about it now.

They couldn't take it back and he was actually glad that the information had come to light before Tony finally got around to telling Abby. She would need as much time as possible to adapt to this. She did not like change.

He tried to pull her into his arms, but she shook him off and continued stomping angrily back and forth. "I'm sure he has his reasons." Tim finally spoke up, but a glare from Abby had him glancing back at the floor.

"How dare he break up this team? He is acting like a freaking teenage girl about this whole break-up. He needs to grow up and stop being so damn selfish. Ziva's right, he's going to be responsible for getting one of you guys killed because some newbie is going to be watching your back instead of Tony." She saw McGee open his mouth, but she silence him with a look, "He's like a brother to me and I know he is to you, too, no matter how much you guys would both deny it. I can't believe that he would just throw all of this away because he had problems with a girl. He's Tony, he can get another girl."

As if she ran out of steam, she finally flopped down on the couch, but Tim had heard enough. Normally, he would have been right there with Abby. Would he been ranting at Tony's selfish behavior, but this time he couldn't even sit back and let her do it. "That's enough." He said a little more harshly than he meant to.

"No, it's not, Tim."

"I said, 'Enough', Abby." He gave her a look he hoped would get her to stop interrupting him and it seemed to be effective. "You don't know what he's going through, and you shouldn't make judgments on him like that."

She started speaking but he shushed her.

"Don't, you need to hear me out, because you obviously don't understand." Tim was surprised when he realized he had taken up the pacing she had stopped doing. "It's not just about 'a girl' that he can get another one of. You know him, even better than I do and you're not that stupid."

"I know, but this is too much."

"I said stop, I've heard enough and I won't stand here while you give him crap about having a heart. You know he doesn't let people in. You know she's been the only one for him for a lot longer than they were dating. You know how much it almost killed him when she died. Now imagine you finally found happiness after a lifetime of people abandoning you, just to have the person you gave your heart to throw it out like old trash."

"Timmy." She said softly and he finally just let her speak, "I don't have to imagine it, I've seen it firsthand. I did the same thing to you and he's being stupid if he doesn't see that despite whatever she may have said to him, she really does love him."

Tim shook his head, "It's not the same as you and me, Abby. You know he never lets those girls get to him and that's why they're replaceable. Ziva's irreplaceable and he can't stick around and watch her without him. Watch her dating, falling in love, someday getting married and having kids and living the life he wanted to have with her while he has to sit back and watch them."

Abby's eyes glistened with unshed tears as the weight of everything that their friend was facing was presented to her. "I just don't want him to go."

xoxo

A/N: So Sorry for the delay! Lots of Holiday stuff going on today, 6 dozen cookies and shopping for ingredients for stuffing. I'm exhausted.

So we didn't get snowed in, just 6 inches of fresh white blowing all over the place with a temp of negative 9 after the wind chill. This morning was negative 12 before they factored in the wind chill. We made the national news for how crappy the weather is. Yay, Inland Northwest, next time let's make the news for something that doesn't hurt my hands, I need them to type.

I am off work until Monday, so hopefully I can make a lot of headway on this story with daily posts until then, even with all the Holiday stuff going on.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: Putting out the 'might be a little racy' warning for the last couple of paragraphs, but it's nothing compared to that alley scene, so if that didn't offend you and drive you off, you should still be ok with this one.

Chapter 20

They walked to the bungalow arm in arm, laughing and joking a little after midnight. As soon as the door closed behind them, the angry tension was back between them. Ziva pulled away from him, grabbed her book off the coffee table and went upstairs without a word. Tony flopped onto the couch with a disgruntled sigh and began aimlessly flipping through the channels.

Neither seemed willing to finish the conversation from earlier and it had put a damper on the sexual energy they had built up in that alley a while before.

Tony woke a little after three in the morning with a sharp pain in his back and the need to get up and move. Stretching as he hobbled up from his spot on the couch, he gave the offending piece of furniture an angry look as he slowly made his way up to the bedroom.

Whether she was mad at him or not, he was going to finish the night in the bed. If it bothered her that much, she could go down and sleep on the couch herself. He shed his shirt and pants in the dark of the room, grabbing a pair of shorts out of the top drawer and tugging them on as his eyes adjusted to the light. He had crept in quietly, but was still surprised that he didn't wake her. She was usually hyper-aware of noise, especially while she was sleeping.

Once his eyes adjusted, he felt a fond smile tug at his lips as he realized she had fallen asleep reading. She was propped up on her pillow against the headboard, not really sitting up, but certainly not laying down. The blanket was tucked around her legs and her book was open against her chest still lightly gripped in her relaxed hand. Her head tilted slightly and her mouth barely parted.

He shook off the sudden desire to wake her with a kiss and continued to observe her peaceful slumber.

He didn't normally have the chance to watch her in sleep, she seemed to need to little and wake so easily. When they had spent nights together, she had always been up before him, either out for a run or making him some kind of healthy breakfast.

His smile turned into a full grin and then dropped to a frown as he thought about how much he had come to enjoy egg white omelets with wheat toast and then realized how much he was going to miss those little moments.

There was something about her moving around in his kitchen with his shirt and her shorts on that had made him feel like he was finally home. Something that spurred long buried memories of lazy Sunday mornings when he was a kid.

That was the day of the week his mom always gave the help off and she would make breakfast before taking him to church. Of course, his mom had not made him all the healthy stuff Ziva had been feeding him, but it was a similar feeling. Especially when he offered to help and she would send him out of the kitchen with a grin. The only big difference between being a kid with his mom or a man with Ziva was that instead of scampering off and watching cartoons, he would stand in the doorway and watch her work.

He didn't know how long he stood in that dark room, thinking about the past, both distant and recent.

With a nearly silent sigh, he finally moved towards her, gently leaned over the empty side of the bed and carefully tried to remove the book from her hands.

As quick as a blink he suddenly found a shooting pain in his wrist, as it was wrenched to a very unnatural angle. Before he realized she was moving he was looking down the barrel of her handgun, but all he saw was the expression on her face. The moment of panic and fear that claimed the features of her face before realization seeped into her newly awake brain was an expression he instantly wanted to forget ever seeing.

He was not naïve enough to actually believe that the sudden expression wouldn't be burned into his brain for life and he was sure to recall it in nightmares for years to come.

Somehow, he found the will to chuckle nervously as he slowly relaxed into the bed where her grip had pulled him. He was lying on his side diagonally across the right side of the bed, his feet dangling off the edge, heart beating erratically.

"You think you could let me go now?" he asked with a strained voice and a weak smile.

She released the tight hold on his wrist, but did not let go completely and he swallowed nervously as his gaze slipped from her eyes back to the barrel of the gun still trained on him from inches away.

Very slowly he raised his free hand, making sure she could see the movement, not sure of the mental state she was in. Carefully, he placed his hand over hers and felt his heart jump as she flinched from the contact.

Slowly he guided her hand and the gun away from him and gently removed it from her grasp, breathing a sigh of relief as he moved the weapon onto the empty expanse of bed behind his lower back.

Her expression didn't change from the blank confusion that had swept her in the moments after waking in fear. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice husky from sleep.

Tony smiled, "That's probably a better question coming from me right now." He commented and watched as a slight blush crept across her cheeks.

"Sorry." Ziva started to roll away from him and he reached out to stop her with a hand on her hip.

"Talk to me." It was a demand, not a question and he watched the hesitation.

She shrugged and tightened her grip on his wrist again, "There is nothing to talk about; I was sleeping."

He shook his head, "Please stop running, Ziva."

She relaxed her hold again and he saw her eyes watching for escape, then her expression suddenly changed. "You are doing enough running for the both of us are you not?" She said with sudden venom.

"Don't put this back on me."

"That is where it belongs, no?" she asked with that damn level tone she used that had been infuriating him lately. He was about to respond with exasperation when her expression and tone softened, "Why are you running away from everything? From me?"

He felt the familiar tug in his heart that had been so carefully hidden away until she swept into his life. He didn't know how to respond to the brutally direct question, but she continued to look at him with her eyebrow cocked, waiting for an answer.

With a sigh of frustration he closed his eyes so he didn't have to watch her face as he let loose with everything he had been bottling inside, "God, Ziva, you have no idea what it's like to see you every day and not be able to touch you. To watch you leave work and know you're not meeting me at home. It's killing me to know how good we were together and to think that someday I'm going to have to watch you have that with someone else. It would kill me inside and my heart is dead enough already."

He let out another sigh, this one surprisingly shaky, as all the emotion, he had been fighting and trying to ignore, poured out of him. "I decided not to put in for the promotion, though, because as much as it would kill me to watch you fall in love with someone else, get married, have babies, it would kill me more if something ever happened to you because I wasn't there to have your back."

Silence filled the room and after several moments he allowed his eyes to open again, despite the fear of what he would see when he opened them. Would she look on him with pity for his sad state or disgust for his weakness?

As his eyes found hers, he was surprised to see remorse and guilt. That couldn't have been right. In a moment, it was gone and replaced with sudden sadness that confused him just as much as her prior expression had.

He was still trying to interpret her expression when her hand that had been holding his wrist moved and her fingers locked with his while her free hand moved up to gently trail along the side of his face . She suddenly leaned into him; her body flush against his as she placed a gentle kiss against his lips.

It took him several seconds to process exactly what was happening and when it registered, he pulled back instead of pushing forward. "What are you doing?" he shocked himself by asking.

Ziva continued to consider him with that curious expression and didn't seem inclined to answer, instead leaning in to give him another kiss.

Before she could reach his mouth he pulled away and rolled to get out of bed taking several steps before he turned back, "I don't need this right now, Ziva. You might be able to turn things on and off, but I can't. You might think you're doing me a favor by letting me have another night with you, but you're making it worse."

With that, he strode out of the room and left her looking towards him with a puzzled expression. He had just hit the bottom of the stairs when he heard her coming after him. From the sound of her heavy footfalls, he was sure she was mad that he had shot down her gesture, but he couldn't find the will to care.

He rounded the corner into the small living room just as she reached him and yanked him around to face her. "I'm sorry, Tony." She said, but his anger wouldn't let him accept the apology so he shook off her hand and headed to the kitchen to grab a glass of water or something, anything to get out of the tension and emotion.

She followed directly behind him and hovered close while he got out a glass and filled it with water. He swallowed the liquid in three gulps, regaining himself before he turned to face her.

"What do you want, Ziva?" he asked in irritation as he crossed his arms over his chest and glared her down. He had the brief thought that perhaps he should take it easy on her when he noted that sadness was back in her eyes.

"You." She said so quietly that he wasn't sure he heard her right.

"What's wrong?" he asked his voice suddenly full of disdain. "Did you get all worked up in that alley? Well, I'm sure you know how to take care of that by yourself."

Sudden anger flashed behind the sadness and before he knew what was happening she had shoved him, sending him backwards a step and bumping his hips into the kitchen counter. "You are an ass." She responded, standing menacingly close to him and glaring him down.

He felt something snap in him and he grabbed her firmly around the shoulders, pushing her back a few paces until her shoulders and back crashed hard against the far wall. "I answered you. I gave you honesty. You owe me the truth. Why didn't we work? What went wrong?"

He knew his expression was hard, her eyes fluttered away from the angry set of his jaw. He leaned further into her space, his face only inches from hers, and he felt her tremble under his hands still clamped on her shoulders. He was sure he would leave a mark, and he was curious why she didn't just take him down, but he waited for her response.

He was certain she would feed him another line, some kind of garbage, if she even answered him at all. It wasn't until her gaze flitted back to his, tentative and hesitant that his heart leapt into his throat and he found it hard to breath from the intensity of her expression. The expression on her face nearly mirrored the one that she had when he had first startled her awake. It melted his anger.

His thoughts were spiraling out of control and he was about to step back, let her go, head upstairs and get some sleep, anything so he didn't have to look into her eyes with that expression turned fully on him.

She stopped his movement with her words, soft and hesitant, spoken with a shaky note he had never heard from her, "I got scared."

He was baffled. The phrase didn't seem to register as a cognizant thought, "You don't get scared." He replied, his tone softening slightly.

She nodded briefly, glancing away from him, "You scare me."

He stared at her in shock. Her words didn't make sense to him anymore and he knew comprehension was so close, but he couldn't get his thoughts to form them into fluid understanding.

"I-" she cleared her throat and brought her sad eyes back up to meet his, tears brimming and threatening to spill out. The sight of her in this state made his heart ache, wanting to take her pain away. He wished he just understood what it was so he could fix it. "Watching all those people die. I just thought. . ." she pulled in a deep shaky breath, "I thought it would be easier."

He wished they were having this conversation in the light of day after a full night's sleep, because he couldn't grasp what she was talking about, "You thought what would be easier?" he finally asked when it didn't seem that she was going to continue.

"I thought it would be easier to let you go now and not have one of us face what all those people did." Her voice had softened even more, hesitation and nervousness warring with the sadness.

Suddenly, everything clicked and he felt a wave of relief and joy wash over him.

Before he realized the full implication of her statement he had already crashed his lips to hers, releasing her shoulders to wrap an arm around her hips and move his other hand to her cheek before lodging it in her hair to pull her closer to him.

Within moments, they were back in the same position they had been in down that dark alley, her legs around his waist, hands running fluidly over his bare chest.

Suddenly she pushed his shorts down, reached a hand between them and shifted her baggy shorts enough for him to reach her. He felt like he was home from a long vacation as he joined their bodies and for several seconds he wasn't sure if he would be able to breathe from the intensity of it.

They relaxed for a long moment, savoring the feeling of being one with each other again. She looked in his eyes as she shifted and suddenly there was no more thought as to whether he could breathe or stand or even think clearly, as he leaned in to her kiss and their passion drove them higher.

Afterwards, they leaned on the wall for a long moment, panting and exhausted. Once they had regained their breath, Tony helped her down and they adjusted their clothes before moving silently back upstairs.

Enough words had been spoken and neither seemed inclined to speak as they found their way back to the bed and started again. This time, they were slow and gentle. Languid exploration and lingering kisses got them through until sun began to pour in the window and they finally succumbed to bone deep exhaustion.

xoxo

A/N: I hope everyone who celebrated Thanksgiving today had a great one. I am still waiting for dinner (it's 7pm), but I didn't have to cook, so I'm not complaining. :)

I'm thankful for finally pulling away from all this angst and moving Tony and Ziva back where they should be (in my humble opinion). I'm not saying it's going to be easy for these two stubborn and guarded characters, but we're over a big hurdle. At least they're talking now.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

There was something about angry sex that made Tim feel both exhilarated and filthy. Therefore, with a sated grin and a grimy feeling, he climbed into the shower to get cleaned up before Gibbs got back from debriefing Tony and Ziva.

He was surprised when Abby climbed in behind him a minute later. "Hey, Baby." He said over his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him.

"Hey." She responded, shifting them around so she could share the spray with him.

"Sorry about that." He said, ducking to grab the soap and turning to start running the bar over her back.

She looked up at him with a saucy grin, "What are you apologizing for? That was pretty hot."

Tim chuckled as he felt his cheeks flush, "I was talking about before that."

Abby shrugged and the simple reference was enough to have that sadness back in her eyes, but this time with a hint of mischief, "It's not over until it's over. You might be right about how he's feeling, but I think I know what she's going through. With a little help, she'll come around. Hopefully before it's too late."

McGee looked at her with a shocked expression, "Are you telling me that you. . ." he leaned down to give her a tender kiss, "would have reconsidered" his lips moved to gently kiss each of her eyes "if our break-up would have had me running for the hills?"

She smiled up at him, "I guess we'll never know." She replied enigmatically.

"And what about now?" he asked, wondering when their movements had stilled and they ended up just standing under the water, eyes lock and water pouring around them.

"Now's a better time for me." She responded with a grin.

He didn't know if he was really hearing what he thought he was, so he just stared at her with a puzzled expression as he felt the water start to cool.

"If you still want to, that is."

Tim broke into a full grin, "You mean it?"

She grinned at him as she reached around him to turn the water off before embracing him in a wet hug, "Yes."

He thought he was either going to cry or pass out from the intensity of the thoughts and feelings rolling through him, but instead he cautiously stepped out of the shower to grab a towel and start patting her dry.

By the time they were dressed and back downstairs, Gibbs was walking back in through the backdoor with a coffee in his hand and a scowl on his face. He stopped short as he took in the giddy grin on McGee's face and the way He hovered close to Abby.

"About time." Was all he said as he threw the bag with his chauffer clothes into the chair in the corner of the room.

Tim stood there, completely befuddled as to how Gibbs might know so much all the time, and watched as Abby stood to go embrace him.

"Will you walk me, Gibbs?"

Tim wondered if he ever saw Gibbs with such a large smile on his face and was certain he saw a glimmer in the older man's eyes as he turned away from the hug to head upstairs. "Congratulations, Tim." His boss called back as he continued out of the room.

Gibbs turned back a moment later, "Get things set for the meeting tomorrow." He told them as he headed up the stairs.

xoxo

Ziva woke feeling warm and protected, her head resting comfortably on Tony's shoulder and her hand brushing gently over the soft hairs in the middle of his chest. The warm and comforting feeling of his arms encircling her and holding her tightly to him even in sleep made her heart swell in her chest.

She let her eyes drift to the clock and was surprised to see that it was nearly nine in the morning. She would normally have been up at five, but as she thought about it, that was about the time they had fallen asleep.

She felt relieved by the weight that had been lifted off her shoulders, but at the same time like a new one had been added.

She had that familiar ache in her stomach that came with opening herself up so completely to him. The ache came from worry of the pain that they could bring on each other. It was lessened by the knowledge that last night they had done so much to ease the pain they had been experiencing for a week.

She felt herself smiling as she recalled the expression in his eyes when she finally opened up to him. The joyful smile that was bigger than any she could remember seeing on his face, as he kissed her like he never wanted to stop.

The muscles in her thighs ached from the passion in the kitchen and the events that followed, but one of her legs was slung over his thighs and she didn't want to disturb him by moving it, so she ignored the discomfort.

She was trying to catalogue everything, trying to lock it away in her brain and savor it. Spending a week away from him had been miserable. After waking every day with his arms around her, she had actually gotten to feeling so safe that her gun stayed on the nightstand and not under their shared pillows.

Going from that to nothing had been trying and she didn't have the desire to go through that again.

She had to marvel about the way he had wormed his way so completely into every part of her. So completely, that she found herself unable to keep her inner turmoil to herself.

He told her that he would forgo his own happiness to stay and protect her. Told her that he would opt for the potential misery of watching her have the life he wanted for them with someone else over having to live with something happening to because he couldn't take care of her.

It broke the last vestige of her resistance as she realized that together or not together, if anything happened to her he would be devastated just the same. She knew she was in the same precarious position, she couldn't fight the thoughts and feelings that boiled through her, as she finally caved and told him she was scared.

It was the biggest leap of faith, one of the hardest things she had ever done. Even looking back on it in the glaring light of morning, she couldn't find anything that she would change or do differently.

Her grin widened as she looked over the light stubble on his face, the mess of his hair, and thought that he had never looked better. Until his eyes opened and soft green met hers.

"Good morning, beautiful." He said with a tentative smile, as if curious how she would react in the light of day.

She countered his smile and thought perhaps there was one thing she hadn't done last night that she desperately needed to. She couldn't stop the words that tumbled out of her mouth even if she wanted to, "I love you."

His shocked expression was cut in intensity by the huge grin that split his face, "I love you, too." He leaned in to brush his lips lightly across hers, "Don't do that to me again." He implored, his smile faltering slightly.

She felt emotion taking her again, but managed to speak through the lump in her throat, "Never."

"Promise?" his tone was joking, but his eyes were pleading.

She couldn't speak anymore and simply nodded at him, hoping her eyes would convey what she wasn't able to say.

His arms tightened around her and pulled her into his chest, one hand moving up to slowly stroke over her tangled hair. "So, how about we go rustle up some breakfast?"

She couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of her, "You're always thinking about your stomach."

It was his turn to laugh, and the sound warmed her from the inside in a way she hadn't allowed anything to touch her since she was a child, "Not always." He said in that sensual tone that got her heart fluttering and sent a wave of heat through her.

"I thought you were hungry?" she teased, as she slipped her leg further up his thigh.

She felt the moment his breathing changed and the way his hand tightened in her hair to guide her face up to his for a steamy kiss, "Food can wait." He responded as he rolled over her and they lost themselves in each other again.

It was almost one in the afternoon by the time they strolled hand in hand into the 'lab' that was supposed to be part of their cover.

"Hayley!" Tony hollered through the lab and watched as Abby, the normally effervescent lab tech, strolled slowly out of a back room and greeted them indifferently.

"Come on back." She said dispassionately and turned back through the door she had come out.

Once they were through the adjoining door and it closed behind them, Abby turned to them with a completely different expression on her face. If Ziva didn't know better, she would think that it was anger on the other woman's face. There was nothing she could be angry about, was there?

"We're clear to talk in here." Abby told them both before turning to Ziva, "Can you come help me with something upstairs?" With that Abby turned on her heal and started up the stairs, not waiting for a response and fully expecting Ziva to follow behind her.

Ziva shared a look with Tony, but he just shrugged his shoulders at her. He was obviously not clear on what was up with Abby, either.

Tony was certain there was something up, but he couldn't put his finger on it as he watched Ziva disappear up the stairs with Abby. He pulled out one of the computer chairs next to McGee and spun in a circle a few times, as he figured the easiest way was to just ask Tim, "What's up with Abby?"

He didn't understand the suddenly cold glare he got from his friend at the simple question before the other man turned back to the computer screen where he was diligently staring at an empty street.

"What's up with you, too, Probie?" Tony asked, stopping his chair in mid spin to turn directly towards the younger man, hoping to project an air of superiority that wouldn't have been nearly as effective while spinning in a circle.

"Where you planning to tell Abby before you left, or were you going to creep out in the middle of the night and leave me to deal with the emotional fallout?" Tim's voice was level, as if he had practiced these words repeatedly in his head before actually speaking them aloud.

Tony just rolled his eyes, "I'm not going anywhere."

"Bull, Tony. The limo's wired, we heard all about you going to Hawaii. Running scared because you can't handle a little rejection?"

"That's a little harsh, when you get your information third hand. Why don't you just ask me what's going on and I'll tell you?" He replied, suddenly angry with them for invading his private moment with Ziva, though he knew they were just doing their jobs. Logically he understood that he shouldn't have expected any privacy in their mission vehicle.

"Alright, Tony, we'll play it your way. What's going on?"

With a grin, Tony filled Tim in on the previous night, not all the details, just a vague outline, keeping the details close to his heart.

"That's," Tim seemed to falter in choosing the words, something that made Tony laugh, because this was a best-selling novelist having trouble finding something to say, "That's great, Tony. Are you sure about this?"

Tim's concern made Tony stop for a moment and think, actually think, through the events of the previous ten hours, "Yeah." He finally said after a long pause, "I really am, and I'm sure about her. More sure about this than almost anything I've ever done. Heck, if it doesn't work out, at least this last week has assured me that I'll survive it, but baring her running off to join the circus or something, I think she's in it with me just as deep."

He thought a moment more, not sure if he should share the detail that he had kept to himself, the thing that had been warming him from inside like a furnace since he woke this morning. Finally, he decided, and saying it aloud to Tim somehow made it feel more real, which he didn't think was possible.

He grinned and chuckled, a sound that to his ears seemed distant but full of wonder, "She told me she loves me."

Tim's return smile was full of relief and for the first time, Tony actually thought about how leaving would have torn more than just him and Ziva apart, it would have been hard on Tim and especially hard on Abby. "That's good news." Was all the young man said in reply, but his eyes spoke volumes with a soul deep happiness that certainly wasn't from just the news about Tony and Ziva.

"So, now that we're through all that awkward talk about me, what's new with you? Why are you sitting there looking like the cat that got the canary?"

Tim's grin grew wider, "You really should save that one for Ziva; she'll have a heck of a time figuring it out."

Tony shook his head, "No, she's got that one now, she thought it was something about a cannery, which doesn't even come close to making sense." He turned his best interrogation face on his young partner, "Now stop changing the subject and give me the god news."

"I have a question for you, actually." he responded.

"Tim," Tony began on a sigh, "I said stop changing the subject."

"I'm not." He defended.

"Sure sounds like it." Tony tried the interrogation glare again.

"I just wanted to know," Tim started, and Tony could see the hesitation in him. McGee's nerves were radiating off him in nearly visible waves and Tony wasn't sure he wanted to hear whatever it was the man was going to say to him.

He couldn't take any more drama. He would actually be glad to never experience another second of drama after the last week he suffered through.

Tim cleared his throat as if trying to force the words that were stuck in his throat out of him, "I was hoping that, maybe, you could possibly, if you don't mind. . ."

"Spit it out, McStutter." Tony finally said in frustration when the anticipation finally began to drive him crazy.

"Will you be my best man?" Tim finally got out in a rush of words that slurred together from the speed they left the man's mouth so much that it took Tony a moment to figure out what he had said.

"Hell yeah." He responded when the words finally sank in. He and Tim had gotten a lot closer in their mutual love/hate issues with the two crazy women in their lives. With a wide grin, Tony moved over to physically pull Tim out of his chair and into a hug, "Congratulations." He said into the man's ear before releasing him.

Just then they heard a very un-Ziva-like squeal come from the former assassin, filtering down the stairs and he shared a knowing smile with Tim. "Abby must have told her." Tim grinned.

The two women came downstairs a few moments later and just as they finished the round of congratulations and hugs through the room, Gibbs came in through the back door.

"Enough giggling and grab ass, let's get to work." Their boss said, but there was a grin on his face where there normally would have been a scowl. Tony was certain that was his way of joining in the moment that his team was sharing.

They got down to the business of planning the events of the evening. This time they made sure to account for several contingent situations so they didn't have to operate on the fly like they had the previous night.

xoxo

A/N: I wanted to get back to the case, but apparently, the muse was not happy with me playing with Abby's emotions again. So, here we are, another take on the characters and the case will apparently be waiting until next chapter. That's OK; it gives me a chance to rework a major plot hole in the coming chapters that cropped up while I was thinking through what's to come.

I hope you're all enjoying where we're going and I promise, back to the meat of the case tomorrow… barring any potential life delays that keep me from writing, of course.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Gibbs watched inside the club from a portable TV onto which McGee was feeding the video footage. He was waiting in the limo a block from the club in the event Tony and Ziva need a private venue to speak with Esposito.

Abby was on the other end of the ear-bud and feeding him a breakdown of the visible conversation. Frustratingly enough, she was also giving him a play by play of the action he was watching first hand and adding her personal anecdotes along the way.

He hoped that Tony and Ziva would move things along, because as happy as Abby had been the entire day, he really wasn't interested in yelling at her and in her current hyperactive and overly jubilant mood. He knew it would come down to him raising his voice if he tried to get her to stop, because she was deeply embedded in off topic rambling and that was the only way he was going to get through to her at this point.

Gritting his teeth as Tony and Ziva moved to the dance floor and Abby started into what he could already tell was going to be a rambling monologue on the origins of line dancing. Was he actually having a discussion with her he would have pointed out that there was no line-dancing going on, but instead he heard his phone ring and pulled it out of his pocket.

"Gibbs." He greeted and smiled at the response from the other end of the line, "Well, it's about time, Fornell. I was starting to wonder if you might have been in the office despite what the computer logs said."

Fornell laughed at that, "I wouldn't expect you to trust a computer log, anyway."

"Well, yeah, Fornell," he responded with a hint of aggravation, but undertones of relief, "So why didn't you call me back?"

Gibbs heard the pause and knew a load of bull crap was headed his way, "I was undercover in Morocco."

Gibbs laughed, "You weren't in Morocco, but wherever you were I'm sure they had phones."

"I couldn't risk it."

Gibbs grunted in confirmation, he understood the risks of external contact when you were on deep cover. "Aren't you getting a little old for undercover work?"

"Aren't you getting a little old to be telling other people that they're getting old?" he responded.

"What are you up to now?" Gibbs asked, changing the subject.

"On my way back to the states for a few weeks off." Fornell responded, but Gibbs could hear the question in his voice.

"Keep your phone on, we're working on something that I might need you on if things get hairy." Gibbs answered the unspoken question.

"I won't miss your call again."

With that, Gibbs hung up the phone and switched his focus back to the ear bud, he realized that at some point Abby had switched from line dancing to breakdancing, and Gibbs was almost relieved to have missed the transition between the two vastly different styles of dance.

He began to faze her out, watching the crowd behind his agents and was actually impressed with his ability to tone out the babble. He let his mind wander to the news he had gotten the previous evening.

A smile played on his lips as he thought about the question Abby had asked him and the smile grew to a grin. He knew he would never have the opportunity to walk his own daughter down the aisle, and he knew that Abby didn't have a father any more, but to hear that she thought of him in her heart for that moment had still been a surprise to him.

His mind flashed over how he came to be here with these people in his life. While there was a lot of negative events and sadness that brought him here, it was these little moments of joy that sustained him through the hardest days. Kept him going through his wedding anniversary, his daughter and wife's birthdays, and the anniversary of the day they were taken from him.

Suddenly "FBI" filtered through his audio block and he cursed, hoping he didn't miss anything, "Ziva spotted her near the south wall." Abby continued, "Tony doesn't seem to think she's a Fed, but Ziva is adamant."

Gibbs watched the two agents on the little screen as they broke from their dance and moved away from the floor, heading toward the bar to grab a drink.

Gibbs tracked their movements as they settled at the bar. Ziva leaned into Tony a placed a steamy kiss on his lips. Gibbs was fairly certain that this display was not entirely about the case as he watched her hands caress his back before moving south to pull a pen from Tony's back pocket.

She scrawled on a napkin and put the pen back where she had gotten it from, taking her sweet time in doing so. The agents finished off the drinks they had been given, no words exchanged as they stared into each other's eyes. Gibbs was certainly glad they had the ability to read each other so well, because it was time to throw their plan into action and having a female agent on surveillance had thrown a wrench into the plan.

Tony leaned into Ziva's space, trailing kisses up her neck before stopping at her ear and Gibbs was certain he was telling her something, but with Ziva's hair hanging long and free; it was blocking Abby's ability to read the agent's lips.

The two shared another lingering kiss and a long look before Tony got up and walked away. Ziva's gaze followed his approach to the agent in the corner for a few moments before grabbing the napkin and turning the opposite direction. She approached the VIP section.

"Damn it." Gibbs cursed as they separated. He didn't like them splitting up, but he knew it was necessary and actually couldn't help the little smile at how well they thought on their feet.

He had known he picked the right agents for this job, and his earlier doubts that their personal relationship would get in the way were completely gone. Even when things seemed laced with tension and an undercurrent of anger yesterday, they had fought through that and possibly earned the trust of their target with some quick thinking.

"He's hitting on her, asking her to dance." Abby's voice came through his earpiece. "Ziva greeted Esposito, but no further words. It looks like she slipped him the napkin." She continued, "Wait, she told him to open it in private. He's heading for the men's room."

Gibbs watched as Ziva moved back through the crowd towards the bar. The view switched over to Tony who was still grinning and distracting the young woman who was on surveillance duty. With an angry glare, she said something to him that had him throwing his hands in the air and walking away from her table.

"She told him that she would rather make out with a wet dog than spend another second with him. In his defense, " Abby continued, "He really did use the most awful pick-up lines, and while I'm certain it was effective distraction I lost a little respect for him because he even knew those lines."

Gibbs heard the laughter in Abby's voice and was certain she was joking as he watched Tony catch eyes with Ziva who patted the bar counter two times and headed over to meet him as they exited. That was his queue and he started the car to pull around and meet them in the dark alley they had met Esposito in the night before.

He pulled into the alley, killed the lights and the engine and watched as Tony and Ziva rounded the corner arm in arm. He removed the ear-bud, and tucked it into the collar of his shirt and closed the video feed tucking the device under the passenger seat.

They approached the limo and Gibbs had to roll his eyes as Tony pulled Ziva to him, spinning her and plastering her back against the passenger door of the vehicle. Gibbs just had to look to the right to see his agents involved in an intense make out session.

He tried to avert his eyes and think about how hard he was going to slap DiNozzo for the flagrant display in the middle of their op, probably intentionally set right there at the window a couple of feet from him because Tony had that deep vein of rebelliousness. He swallowed the desire to tell them to knock it off when he saw Tony's hands move from massaging her hips upwards as they apparently got very involved in 'selling their cover'.

Gibbs saw the moment Esposito turned the corner into the alley, but he didn't seem deterred by the sight of the two so wrapped up in each other. Something from the previous night clicked and the pieces finally fell into place and he was certain that what had actually happened with his agents in this alley the previous night was probably very similar to this.

He had to admit that was probably a good call and made it a little easier for Esposito to trust that they weren't federal agents; neither agent stopped their activity as the man approached them and Gibbs saw the huge smile that was on the cartel member's face.

Tony and Ziva finally stopped and turned towards the other man. Gibbs couldn't hear what they were saying, but after a few moments, he heard two thumps on the roof and hopped out to get the back door.

Gibbs held the door as the three climbed inside. Before Tony hopped in and Gibbs closed the door, DiNozzo said, "Try to stay off the main roads, drive around a while and keep an eye out for anyone following."

"Yes, sir." Gibbs caught the little twinkle in DiNozzo's eye at that and knew it was killing him not being able to make a joke, but his agent fought the urge and moved the rest of the way into the car as Gibbs closed the door.

Once Gibbs was settled and certain the dividing window was up, he moved the ear bud back into place so he could track their conversation as he drove through Miami. He watched the road behind them in the mirror as he drove and listened to the conversation in the back area.

"What do you two want with me?" Esposito questioned and Gibbs heard Ziva giggle.

Tony was the one to respond, "We're just looking for a good time and trying to make some money."

"What's that got to do with me?" Esposito questioned them and Gibbs felt a moment of relief that they were not dealing with anyone that was terribly bright.

Ziva spoke up this time, "Antonio and I heard you were the person to speak with about weapons."

The man scoffed, "I don't sell weapons."

Tony and Ziva laughed together this time, "That's good," Tony started, "Because we don't want to buy them."

"So, what the hell is this about then?"

Gibbs heard the subtle hint of frustration in Ziva's voice, though he was certain the other man wouldn't detect it, "We need to get rid of some, how do you say, merchandise?"

"Yeah," Tony responded, "That works, but I don't think we need to sugar coat this. If the FBI had him in their pocket, they wouldn't be watching from across the room." Gibbs could imagine the look on Tony's face from the gentle tone he was using and had to admit they were playing the loving couple role pretty damn well. "Here's the deal, Esposito, we have a couple shipments coming in and we were told that dealing with any other gang in the area would pretty much sign warrants for our death."

Esposito chuckled, "You're probably right, they don't like seeing arms moving through other gangs. Shifting the balance of power in these neighborhoods could lead to a full out gang war, which is messy and a lot more trouble than we want to deal with."

"We'll give you a few days to think it over, if you want, but we can't sit on this stuff forever. You have our number." Tony continued, "We don't hear from you in three days, we'll be forced to move this through another group."

Silence fell on the group for a moment before Gibbs heard Ziva hit the intercom button and begin talking directly to him, "Back to the hotel, please."

The intercom switched off and Esposito finally responded, "I'll have to think about it."

"Not too long now." Tony said. As Gibbs pulled up outside the hotel and tucked the ear bud back into his shirt so he could get out and let the two agents out of the back.

"Our driver will take you back to the club or anywhere else you want to go." Tony said as he moved his gaze back to Ziva, "We have something we need to do." He finished suggestively as Gibbs closed the door with Esposito still inside and shared a brief nod with his agents.

Tony was already pulling Ziva back to him for another passionate kiss and Gibbs couldn't stop shaking his head as he got back in the driver's seat and started to pull away.

The window came down and he knew Esposito must have found the switch. "The club is fine." He said as he chuckled, "Are those two usually like that?"

Gibbs felt himself chuckling along with the other man, "You get used to it." He lied easily.

xoxo

A/N: Okay, wow, this one was really hard to finish, took me ALL day to get through. It's good my daughter is at Granny's house decorating for Christmas.

I hope it came out all right, because I keep forgetting that it's extremely difficult for me to be in Gibbs' brain, but still I keep going back. Darn it. Perhaps I'll learn my lesson here, but probably not, because the challenge is exciting as frustrated as I get. :) 

Thanks for reading.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Tony woke, feeling both rested and exhausted. Ziva by his side meant he had been put to bed tired and not only achieved a deep sleep, but also earned it. However, three weeks of living in a hotel undercover, trying to trick a drug cartel was wearing on him, no matter who was there to help him through it.

Tony had reached a very perplexing mindset and come to some conclusions he never thought he would reach. He was tired of staying in a five-star hotel and living it up as if they were rich. He was tired of being undercover and exhausted with all the changes in plans that it took to deal with the elusive Cuban drug cartel.

He was tired of money, tired of people, tired of working, tired of dancing and tired of sharing his time with Ziva with the rest of the world.

He wanted nothing more than to curl up on his couch with Ziva, watch movies, eat pizza and not leave the house for a week. He wanted to wear a pair of jeans that was tattered because he had ripped them playing a spur of the moment basketball game with his friends, not because they were designed to be that way.

He wanted to look in her eyes away from this mission and see all the things he saw now. He wanted confirmation that those looks and her words were for him and only him without all the outside factors that were playing into their relationship now.

While it had been helpful to bridge the gap that she had imposed on them, now that they were over that step, he found familiar doubts creeping in as everyday passed like some kind of fantasy or dream.

He was tired of the voice in the back of his head making him worry that perhaps she was doing all of this so that they could complete their mission. That everything she did and said was to that end.

He trusted her, he believed in her, but that voice was nagging and wouldn't be sated with reassurances or the knowledge of how far they had come. That voice wouldn't be appeased until they were home, alone, and she looked him in the eyes and said those words that had become both a burden and a relief.

He was experiencing so many contradictory emotions and feelings about this whole situation and couldn't wait to go home and get out of the fake bubble they had built to see if any of it was real. It felt real to him, until the mission came back to the forefront.

He knew, in the past, she had been capable of lying to seal the deal on a cover story. She had been Mossad and trained to do whatever it took to get the job done. He just couldn't bring himself to believe that she would still harbor those former inclinations, especially not towards him.

He just couldn't help but wonder if she was being Ella or Ziva sometimes. One ray of hope he found in the negative down spiral of his early morning thinking, was that they actually rarely used the cover names they had been given. He had any number of sultry sounding Italian nicknames for her and she had actually started referring to him as Motek or Ahuvi.

The first time she had used either he had anxiously waited for a moment alone and vigorously Googled each one. After misspelling them several times and coming up with nothing he began to wonder if she had made up some Hebrew version of the ridiculous nickname she gave him on their previous undercover assignment.

Finally, he struck pay dirt, well actually, Google said 'did you mean. . .', and he found out that the opposite was true. They were common terms of endearment, generally, she had been calling him sweetie and referring to him as her love. It had made his day.

She hadn't stopped using those terms and he was relieved in the knowledge that were she saying something just to fake being affectionate for the mission it would likely be in a language he understood, not something he had to trust the internet to interpret for him.

Tony let his mind wander over the past few weeks of dancing and drinking and 'smuggling weapons' into the US, selling those weapons to known gang members and drug dealers. He was getting antsy, thinking about the damage that could be done with those weapons while they sat back waiting to make a bigger breakthrough than the level of trust they had established with the gang.

Esposito had brought some low level thugs for an easy deal on a few fully automatic AK-47s and a crate of MP-5 submachine guns. Just a few things they couldn't pick up in any legal gun shop. They had tried to stress the service side of their business arrangement, but Esposito was not the one to talk to about that.

Esposito had been pleased with the purchases and brought them back to meet Carlos Rodriguez on a separate sale. This time they had been a little more selective, Carlos was interested in seeing what they were able to get their hands on.

Ziva had breezed through a list of their 'inventory', but Carlos was not interested. It had taken two weeks for Carlos to contact them again and this time he had a list ready.

Carlos had given them a shopping list and they all knew that it was a test. Tony had told them it would take a week and they went to work on compiling the man's list, which, with their ability to access confiscated weapons at their disposal, only took a day, but arranging everything else was what they were asking for so much time on.

They had a week to deliver a dozen M60s, and another eighteen AK-47s with BG-15s already mounted under the front grips. None of them were comfortable handing fully automatic weapons with grenade launchers mounted on them to a bunch of drug dealing gangsters, but the debate had come down to the damage that was done to the J. Edgar Hoover building in Washington, D.C. and if this got them to the terrorist cell, they were going to do it.

Carlos hadn't asked for any shells for the grenade launcher, for that they had been grateful, but they were certain the next round would be a request for ammo to put in their new toys, if they didn't already have it. They could be unleashing hell on Southern Florida, but they had the entire country to think of.

So many things were twisting his guts and making him a complete wreck. They were handing very heavy firepower over to complete scum and smiling while they did it. They were endangering hundreds of lives for the possibility to save tens of thousands. He wondered if Ziva had to deal with this 'for the greater good' dilemma while at Mossad. Perhaps she had some tips for dealing with the impending guilt of watching these weapons used, possibly on innocent people.

He felt a sudden wave of nausea and as he fought it, somehow, he found himself unable to focus on all of that as he took in the face of his partner sleeping soundly next to him.

He had to stop taking his eyes off the ball, but every day that got more difficult as everyday he wanted this to be over and his life to start again. He wanted the threat to be gone so he and Ziva could start making a life together instead of living this lie.

Tony felt a heavy sigh flow out of him as his eyes focused on the bedside clock. It wasn't even five in the morning and he knew there would be no more sleep for him. Tonight they would be making the sale and he was scared.

He knew their plan was nearly flawless and they had all the avenues covered. He knew Rodriguez's men were coming to the airport hangar to pick up the weapons and drop the money in their own protected environment. He knew McGee and Abby were amazing with shooting games and controlling the unmanned gun turrets in order to provide faceless back-up if needed, they could cover his and Ziva's backs in the event that anything went wrong, but that brought another problem to the forefront.

Abby might be amazing at games, but she was not an agent, she had never fired a weapon at anyone before that was more dangerous than a stun gun. He had been pleased to hear that several of the turrets contained nothing more dangerous than mace filled paintball pellets. They would provide non-lethal defense, but he still worried about the things that she might see and be a party to.

Tony couldn't stop worrying over the things that could go wrong tonight and who would be watching. He wouldn't be able to take it if something happened to Ziva before he had a chance to know if this was all a figment of his imagination. He knew, however, that if something happened to him and/or Ziva in the exchange that Abby wouldn't be able to live with the images of seeing her friends killed in front of her.

Tony knew firsthand what it was like to watch a friend die in front of you. While it may feel a little different to have your friend's blood and brain matter sprayed across your face, than it was to watch it second hand through a computer monitor, he couldn't help but think she could be scarred for life just seeing it on one of the monitors.

While he cared about Tim and Abby, worried about what they may have to witness, he came back to Ziva. It always came back to Ziva.

He knew he had to stop these thoughts before they got out of hand, and caused him to slip up. He just couldn't help the growing worry that clenched his stomach and stopped the breath in his lungs. He shifted his gaze back to her face, because it calmed him to watch her sleep, but his eyes met her soft brown ones as she looked up at him with a furrowed brow.

"What is wrong, Ahuvi." She asked with a sleepy smile.

Tony just shrugged as he looked back at her and reached a hand out to tuck an unruly strand of hair behind her ear. He let his fingers linger gingerly on the soft skin of her cheek.

"Tony, we had a deal." She said, reminding him that they had agreed after their first night back together that they would stop hiding things. They agreed to stop bottling everything up and talk to each other. If they couldn't talk to anyone else, they could always talk to each other.

With a sigh, Tony gave in, a promise is a promise, "I'm just worried about tonight."

Ziva let out a small chuckle, "There is nothing to worry about, Motek, we have everything under control. The only reason there would even be a problem is if we did not have what we agreed to. I know these types of people. They will not burn a bridge until they are certain that they can get no more from the relationship."

"Logically, I know that's true." Tony said, but he couldn't seem to put his fears to words. He couldn't seem to say all the things that he had been thinking and feeling over the last few weeks with her.

"Stop over-analyzing everything. We can do this with our eyes closed."

He was about to list off the reasons why he was concerned, as soon as he figured them out, but she cut off any words he may have been saying along with all thoughts as she rolled into his embrace and took his lips in a sweet and gentle kiss. It didn't stay gentle long before he was devouring her mouth with his own, his hands beginning to travel down her neck.

"You know, if we keep this up, we should probably buy stock in Trojan." Tony said as he smiled down at her.

She looked up at him with a confused expression, "The horse they used to sneak soldiers into Troy?"

Tony reached into the nightstand and pulled a package out of the box there, "No, the manufacturer of these." He responded as she took the package out of his hand, tearing it open with her teeth, pulling the condom out, and sliding it on to him.

Her eyes didn't leave his the whole time and he would have been curious about her ability to do that without looking if it weren't for the fact that she had such a sexy look on her face. Her searing expression made the blood pulse through his body more quickly and every doubt and fear he had was wiped away from the pleasure of being here in this moment with her.

That was one of his favorite expressions. It was made even more beautiful by the way her wild curls framed her face and the feeling of her fingers gently stroking the hair on his chest as she moved back in to kiss him more deeply.

"You're so beautiful." He said on a hushed whisper, emotion pulling at his heart from the way she looked up at him.

He was a little surprised when she laughed, but then she looked up at him shyly and moved a hand to touch her hair, "Tony, I am a mess." She giggled and the sound warmed his heart.

Tony moved a hand up and buried it in the unruly locks, "You," he said, leaning in to kiss her gently, "are stunning."

She smiled into his kiss and they lost themselves in each other.

xoxo

A/N: Sorry for a couple of things.

I took yesterday off unexpectedly after daily posts since Wednesday. So, I'm sorry if you were expecting something yesterday. Barring writer's block or the need for a day off, posts will continue Monday, Wednesday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday.

Sorry for jumping ahead in time three weeks. I couldn't detail every second of their time there or this story would be about seven million pages long, or at least feel that way.

Last apology, this was entirely stream of consciousness and I'm not sure that I like it at all, so if you hate it, sorry. If you don't, that's good. Let me know which side of that fence you're on.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Ziva felt at peace as she sat in a computer chair in the surveillance room off Abby's mini-lab. They had run through every possible scenario for the sale tonight for what had to be the hundredth time and were enjoying a little down time while Tony and Tim went out and picked up some lunch.

Normally, she would have accompanied him, but Abby had asked her to stay there, so they could give their two boys a chance to talk. Ziva had smiled at the reference to Tony and Tim as 'their boys'. Ziva suspected her suggestion was just the chance Abby was looking for to get a moment alone with Ziva, because Gibbs was out at some kind of secret meeting.

Either their boss had found a secure video-feed and was briefing the director, or he had gotten Fornell involved as he mentioned he might. Most likely, the second option as Gibbs had spoken to Director Vance through a secure telephone just this morning and they had nothing new to report.

Her guess would be that Gibbs was working on a way the FBI could pull in some of the lower level thugs and take control of at least a portion of that shipment of weapons so they never hit the streets. As she sat here, they were probably trying to figure out a way to get the two agencies to work together without the FBI getting wind of it, never speaking in specifics and trying not to blow her and Tony's cover.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Abby bounding down the stairs and practically throwing herself angrily into another one of the chairs. "I hate it here."

"It cannot be that bad, Abby." She replied, though she knew exactly how bad it was for the other woman. Ziva had been feeling trapped her already and she was put up in a nice hotel with Tony and going out on the town almost every night. She couldn't imagine how awful this must be for Abby.

So, when Abby gave her a glare about her response, Ziva couldn't help the reassuring smile, "I am sorry, Abby. I know this must be horrible."

"You don't know the half of it." Abby gave her a weak smile, "They never let me outside; Gibbs doesn't want anything to happen to me. Isn't that ridiculous? I mean, seriously, we have been here for three weeks and you have hardly broached the subject of your service side or this lab. What the hell does he expect? That they're tailing you wherever you go and they're going to grab some random person you happen to know, just because? It's ridiculous."

Ziva reached across to squeeze Abby's hand, "You have to look at it from Gibbs' perspective." She started, but Abby's glare cut her off.

"You don't think I've considered this from all angles? I have." She stated stubbornly.

Ziva shrugged, "He just does not want you to get hurt. He should have a trained agent in here doing this, and he knows it. You are the only one he is willing to trust on this because it is so important. You know he is just looking out for you."

"I know all of this, but I still don't understand why I can't go out every now and then. If I stick with McGee or you and Tony, I would be just as safe as I am here, and not be going completely insane. Do you have any idea what it's like, Ziva? What living with Timmy and Gibbs in this place is doing to my sex life?" Abby groaned in frustration, "I finally have one again and now it's like being a teenager sneaking around so that 'Dad' doesn't know what you're up to. Tim is all worried about Gibbs hearing us or just knowing what we're up to because he's Gibbs and he knows everything, so I can't even get past second base."

Ziva felt a hint of confusion, before she remembered that she and Tony had this conversation, "You would like to go play baseball?" she asked, deliberately trying to distract Abby with humor.

Abby chuckled and Ziva was relieved that it had worked, normally Tony was the one amused by her English misunderstandings. Which brought her back to thinking about him and she zoned out as Abby explained about sex and baseball.

The past several weeks, with the new policy of no hiding allowed, she had really started opening up to him. The surprise for her, wasn't that he was accepting of all the things she had kept to herself, it was finding out exactly how much she thought she had reserved that he already knew.

He seemed to understand her thoughts and fears before she could even figure out the words to express them. Then, again, she hadn't realized exactly how much of himself he kept hidden from even those closest to him until they had started talking so honestly.

They seemed to be most open with each other in the moments before sleep claimed them and it had resulted in more than one night, lying together in near darkness sharing their fears, hopes and secrets and getting very little sleep.

He had shared thoughts and feelings during their late night talks that had her near tears. From the hesitation in his voice, she knew he hadn't shared these things with anyone before and hearing that he was strong enough to voice them with her, made her love him all the more.

Her heart went out to the poor lost little boy he once was, the discarded teenager, the extroverted frat boy looking for attention, the man who was too scared of what he might lose that he never stayed in one place too long. Until Gibbs. Until NCIS.

This job, this leader, and this crazy mixed up group of people, had grounded him in the same way it did for her. It had grounded them in a way that neither was very capable of putting into words.

"Family." He had finally said in a quiet tone after a silence so long she had been certain he had drifted off to sleep.

"What?" she asked, not sure if he was continuing their previous conversation or starting a new one.

"It's like a family. Like the one I lost or maybe never really had to begin with." His soft words floated through the quiet room and she felt the truth and hurt in every one. "Gibbs is tough, but he's fair. The kind of guy I would have been proud to call dad, but he and I got dealt the short straw when they were passing out family and lineage."

Ziva smiled up at him from where her head had been resting on his chest, "I told him that once. Not that short straw thing, because I do not understand what straws have to do with any of this, but that he was more of a father to me than my own father was."

"Doesn't that sort of make us siblings in this weird little family?" Tony had joked, the dim light in the room showing the sparkle of humor in his eyes. "That's gross, Ziva."

She had shoved him playfully as they laughed together.

Ziva smiled as she realized that she had completely spaced out and Abby was standing in front of her arms crossed, waiting for her to come back to the conversation.

"Sorry, Abby." Ziva responded as she took in the faint quirk of her friend's lips that said she was amused by something.

"I know what you're doing, Ziva. You got lost thinking about you and Tony didn't you?"

Not wanting to be fully truthful, but remembering the previous conversation they had been having, Ziva nodded, "You just distracted me for a minute, I was trying to remember what that thing is called when a batter hits the ball over the wall and the bases are loaded so they get four points."

"Well, I'm disappointed in you, here I am, in an intimacy desert and you're soaking in a pool over there in fantasy land." Abby pouted, and then her eyes opened wide in surprise as the words sank in, "A grand slam? As in 4 times in one night, or. . .?"

Ziva blushed, not entirely used to these 'girl talks', but having grown more accustom to them over the past few weeks. "I believe it is called one 'at bat'?" she asked.

"Wow." Abby said and silence engulfed them for several seconds, "You can't leave it there. The desert, remember? I need details."

"I don't." Gibbs said as he strode through the back door carrying a coffee in one hand and a Caf-Pow! in the other. "So, at least wait until I'm out of the room."

Abby took the drink from Gibbs before he hiked up the stairs, taking them two at a time. "I think this Florida heat is good for you, Gibbs." Abby called up the stairs after him, "You're old knees don't seem to slow you down as much in the tropical climate."

Ziva sat back with mouth agape; she still couldn't believe that Abby talked to Gibbs like that. Then the sound of Gibbs laughing floated down the stairs and it occurred to her that this was Abby, who never censored herself around anyone, let alone Gibbs and she shouldn't be surprised.

"What was that, Abs?" Gibbs called back, "Did you say something about not liking Caf-Pow! anymore?"

"Oh, Ziva," Abby said, in a voice loud enough to carry up the stairs, "I think his hearing is going, too."

"Well, I heard _that_, Abby." He called back.

Abby shrugged it off and turned towards Ziva with that glint in her eyes that she got when she was on the trail of something and not willing to let it go. Before she could start the interrogation, the door opened. Tony and Tim came in carrying bags of food and laying them out on a table in the corner of the room.

"We will have this conversation later." Abby threatened and Ziva was confident the determined woman would follow through, but only gave a simple shrug as acknowledgement.

"What was that about?" Tony asked her and she felt the heat in her cheeks as she blushed, ducking her head to cover it by turning to the food.

She started lying out the to-go cartons on the small table, "Nothing, really, just girl talk." She finally responded.

She watched Tony glance back towards Abby as if he were about to ask her, but then he simple smiled and reached up to grab her shoulders and turn her around.

McGee was on one knee in front of Abby with a jewelry box open in his hand. Ziva couldn't help the smile for her friends as she watched them from across the room.

"Abby," Tim started and though he already had her answer, he still sounded nervous, "I didn't do this right the first time, and the second time took me by surprise. I wanted everything to be perfect, but I can't get you out of here and it's driving me crazy that I have already had to wait so long for this."

Everyone waited silently as Tim carefully pulled the diamond ring out of the little velvet box. She saw Gibbs come down the stairs in her peripheral vision and shared a smile with him before turning her attention back to the couple in the middle of the surveillance room, who only seemed to have eyes for each other in that moment.

"Abigail Sciuto, you deserve the best that life has to offer and yet, you chose me. I am honored and blessed and I will do everything in my power, for the rest of my life, to keep you safe and happy." Tim settled the ring on Abby's left ring finger, "Will you marry me?"

Ziva watched her friend's eyes fill with tears and felt herself getting a little choked up right along with her. Abby didn't seem to be able to find the words, but finally she nodded with a sweet smile and Gibbs started clapping. She and Tony joined in and congratulations were shared again for the couple.

Ziva was about to turn back to set out lunch when Tony's arms came around her from behind, pulling her flush against him with a hand on her stomach.

He leaned down next to her ear and whispered, "I got you something, too."

When she looked down, he was holding another velvet wrapped jewelry box and her heart stopped. Her brain screamed at her. He couldn't' do this to her, to them. It was all too new and too fresh and he had to be out of his mind to think that she could, that they could, that this. . .

"Relax," he whispered, placing a gently kiss behind her ear, "We are so very, very far from being ready for that." His soft chuckle shook his chest against her back and she felt herself relax into his embrace as her fingers twined with his on the small box.

Slowly he lifted the lid. As soon as her brain interpreted what was inside, she couldn't help the giggle that escaped her. This was exactly what she should have expected from him and it was perfect.

"I wanted to make sure you could take care of any trouble tonight." He said, finally pulling away as Abby came over and the two women compared jewelry.

In the small velvet box was a pair of earrings, each one intricately fashioned into the shape of a heart, but they were still, unmistakably, paperclips.

"I told him you would probably find eight ways to kill him with those and he should get you a real set, but he didn't listen." McGee chimed up, joining the others near the food and casting an amused look in Tony's direction.

Ziva punched Tim lightly on the arm and started to unhook the earrings from the velvet box, "They are perfect, McGee, you should not doubt Tony." She said playfully, turning back to the man in question to find him smiling broadly and offering to assist her as she started changing her earrings.

xoxo

A/N: So, I really thought we'd be getting back to the case, but apparently, my characters really wanted a little down time before the crap hit the fan, so here's that. Should be back with another chapter by Friday, probably more directly focused on the case, but can't guarantee it because I haven't written it yet. Perhaps from McGee's POV, since I don't think I've been in his brain for a while, but not sure yet…

Meanwhile, we broke the record for snowfall in November in my city and in honor of that, I have updated my profile picture to show you all what we have done with the more than two feet of snow that has fallen in the last week and a half.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

McGee's mind was spewing drivel as it often did when he was awake and alone. He was watching the monitors for any signs of early-bird activity, though he was sure there would be none. He had left Abby napping comfortably upstairs, still smirking about how easily she had pouted Gibbs out of the building earlier.

He was still supremely intrigued by how clearly she had Gibbs wrapped around her finger, but thinking of her with a fond smile, Abby just seemed to have that effect on people. McGee had pulled his laptop out and, while it was not his typewriter back home, he had made tremendous progress on his new novel over the past three weeks.

Being cooped up in the small space seemed to have cured him of his writers block. As he watched the monitors, his fingers flew over the keys of the computer as he led his characters towards a dramatic scene. He knew where they were headed and what they were walking into. It was a tricky case, though and obstacles had been popping up all over the place that he hadn't seen coming.

After several quick and flowing pages, he found himself unsure how to get the characters where they needed to go. Tim pulled up his free writing document and started describing the scene on the various camera angles, hoping that something would lead him to a break in the mental barrier that had suddenly cropped up.

Abby came down the stairs a few moments later and Tim felt himself become nervous as she embraced him from behind and rested her head on top of his. "I'm not reading it." she said and he had to smile.

She knew him so well.

He was self-conscious of people reading his work before it was done. Though he suspected her understanding had more to do with not wanting to jump in the middle of the story than his need to finish a chapter before letting others have a chance to tear it apart.

"Have a nice nap?" he queried lightly.

"Mmmm." Abby leaned down to whisper in his ear, "The best."

Tim chuckled and was about to have a lascivious comment regarding how they had spent the afternoon with Gibbs, Tony and Ziva out at the airport, when Gibbs strode through the back door. "Everything's set. Tony and Ziva had the plane moved out to another hangar and we're on standby."

"Where are they?" Abby asked. She had moved to the chair next to Tim's, because it was time to work. No matter how aware their boss was of the relationship, even if he did approve, neither was interested in being unprofessional and giving him a reason to say 'I told you so' or regret his former permission to break one of his rules.

Gibbs moved towards the stairs, "Watching a movie on the plane, we'll call them when Rodriguez's men show up." As he started up, he called back to them, "I'm going to grab a snack. You guys need anything?"

Tim fidgeted in his seat as he declined. He knew the next words out of Abby's mouth were not going to be pleasant.

No matter what was going on, whenever Gibbs had asked her if she needed anything in the past couple of weeks, she had always responded with something snarky. She needed to get out of here, needed to go for a walk, needed to get some fresh air, to get away from them, from these rooms, from everything here, but it was never as simple as that. The way she phrased each retort to Gibbs' offers was decidedly more colorful. He had tried, unsuccessfully to hide his smile on several occasions and now had a very well practiced poker face.

Today, however, he was surprised to hear her simply say, "No thanks, Gibbs." and turn back to him with a satisfied smile.

As he entered the tiny apartment, Gibbs couldn't help the self-satisfied smirk. He had been right about giving the two a couple of hours to themselves, it had improved Abby's mood considerably.

Gibbs began making sandwiches and even though the other two had said that they didn't need anything, he made them each one. It had been hours since they had all last eaten and they were about to be stuck in the control room for as long as the waiting and the deal took. They might need something before the night was through and the sandwiches would keep.

Along those lines, he grabbed a few sodas from the fridge just in case, pulled a bag of chips from the cupboard and wondered when the simple act of making a sandwich had turned into such an ordeal. He was just trying to get something to eat before everything started and now he was rummaging through drawers, trying to figure out where Abby had stuffed the bags after unpacking the groceries.

She had not been pleased to have to stay in while Tim and Gibbs did the shopping, but they had let her make lists and were able to find all the things she needed. She had ended up cooking for their little group and he had to admit, he would miss this when he had to go back to his empty house and eating take-out all too often.

He hated feeling like a prison warden, or an evil stepmother, keeping Abby locked away, but he couldn't fight the feeling in his gut that told him something else was going to happen before this was all over. He knew the feeling too well and rarely had it been wrong, so he was doing everything he could to keep her out of harm's way, because logically he knew that she shouldn't be here.

Having packed everything in a paper grocery sack to make it easier to carry, Gibbs was on his way back down stairs when he heard McGee hollering up at him.

"They're early, Boss." The concern was clear in Tim's voice, as Gibbs cleared the bottom stair and set the bag hastily in a chair.

Rodriguez probably sent advance scouts to the location to be sure everything was legit, but they wouldn't know until they saw what the guys in the van did on arrival.

They had brought the same van to the previous purchase. A black panel van with no windows was a scary thing to try intercepting during an operation with only two agents on location. There could be any number of things or a dozen men in the van.

They had eyes on the location, cameras inconspicuously placed inside, so if they were there early to set any kind of trap, they would have advance knowledge of that.

Gibbs grabbed his phone and dialed the mission cell DiNozzo and David were carrying. "They're here early. Hold tight, we'll wait and see what they're up to."

"Got it." DiNozzo responded and Gibbs clicked the line off as the van pulled up to the private hangar.

The hangar door was open, but they did not pull inside.

The van was still running. The driver stayed inside as the door on the side slid open and three men climbed out, automatic weapons slung over their shoulders on straps. The guns, quickly brought to the ready, they stormed the hangar with moves that looked like they may have learned how to do this watching TV.

A couple of times, while their weapons swept the interior of the building, they pointed their guns directly at another member of their party. If it didn't happen today, Gibbs was certain one of these days, they were going to shoot each other with the high-powered automatic weapons in their possession.

Taking a moment to examine the men more clearly, he could see that these were young boys, probably none more than twenty years old. While they moved with determination, they didn't seem to be very thorough or perceptive. Their gazes and the aim of their weapons remained on the lower section of the hangar, obviously looking for people to spring out at them and not any mechanical defense as the agents had installed in the rafters of the large building.

Once they did a quick sweep, the kind that would result in their death as quickly as their poor handling of their weapons, they moved back out to the van. They hadn't checked the storage lockers on the far wall or the tarp covered pallets near the south end, they hadn't even moved to check behind the workbench in the corner. The spots each looked unassuming enough, but these were the places people would hide for a little cover before popping up and blowing away whoever had wandered into the large space.

The three young men climbed back into the van, but it didn't move as they watched a distant shot of the driver pulling out a phone and speak for a minute before hanging up and putting the phone back in his breast pocket.

xoxo

Tony and Ziva huddled together. She was curled around him, much as they had been on the flight over. They were trying to watch a movie, but neither paying attention to the action on screen as their own thoughts weighed heavy on their minds.

Tony was worried about what may come, concerned about the precarious position they were going to be putting themselves in and knowing they were alone. While Ziva was running through the plan in her head, trying to be sure that every avenue, every possibility, every outcome was clear and certain.

Both knew nothing was certain, except that any second they would get a call and have to leave the comfort they had made together. The phone rang again, and Tony placed a gentle kiss on her head before answering it.

It was time to go.

The drive from one hangar to the other was short, but she could feel the tension in him as he firmly held her hand as he drove. She knew how he was feeling. Walking into a situation like this, with everything that could go wrong, was frightening when you had back up on the other side of a door. Aside from the manual turrets, they were alone.

They knew where they could stand to avoid being in the firing line of any of the guns Tim and Abby would be controlling, but that just further solidified that there were gaps in their protection where they would potentially only have each other to rely on.

Knowing that Rodriguez's men were parked to the side of the large double doors they had intentionally left open after the plane was moved out, Tony pulled in through the side entrance that was there for motor vehicle access. He positioned the white cargo van they were transporting the weapons in near the middle of the hangar so they would have it for cover if needed.

Tony squeezed her hand before getting out and coming around her side to open the door and help her down. He pulled her into his arms as she stepped down and let his lips gently play across her cheek and down her neck. This was so far from a good time for him to be resting his lips on that spot; gently teasing her exactly where he knew drove her crazy.

His whisper, while soft, held a hint of fear and adrenaline fueled intensity, "I love you." and the way the whisper breathed across her skin made her wonder if he thought he was saying it for the last time.

She pulled away enough to give him a reassuring smile and placed a gentle kiss on his lips, whispering into the contact, "I love you, too." hoping that the words would reassure him of all the things she wanted to convey. Hoping the contact would be enough to let him know that they would be fine and this mess would be over soon.

The sound of tires, as a car approached on the service road, had them pulling away as they made their way around to the side of the van that was facing the large double doors.

The three gunmen from the van appeared, outlined in the darkened doorway and dwarfed by the huge entrance. Their guns were slung casually from their shoulders. Tony gave a wave and one of the boys turned to signal the van inside.

The driver pulled in, close to their van, and Tony hoped that McGee and Abby still had enough angles for coverage. After a moment the driver had situated to the backs of each van were close enough to make transferring the guns from one to the other an easy task.

By the time the driver was parked and out of the van, another car was pulling into the garage. The car slowed to a stop and the front two doors opened, Jose Esposito and Carlos Rodriguez stepped out and approached them.

"You're early." Tony said lightly.

Carlos gave them a sour look, "Do you have them, or not?"

Ziva scoffed at them, "Of course. Where's our money."

Carlos snapped and as he joined them at the back of their van Esposito moved back to the car and opened the truck. He joined them a moment later over an open crate of guns with a briefcase in one hand.

Ziva gave Tony a sexy grin and ran her hands suggestively down his arm, "You want to count that while I tell these boys about their new toys?"

Tony smirked at her and stayed close to Esposito while the other man placed the case on the floorboard of the van next to one of the crates. Ziva climbed inside and started pulling one of the weapons out.

"I see you are familiar with the AK-47." She gestured towards the men keeping watch near the large open bay doors. "But this guys has that little something extra." She smirked as she handed one to Carlos and pulled another out of the crate, hopping down to stand next to the man as they went over the gun and accessory.

Ziva gazed at the grenade launcher attached to the gun in her hands and stroked her fingers over it in a gesture normally reserved for lovers, "The BG-15 cannot be fired unless mounted." She cautioned, glancing up at the men before turning loving eyes back towards the weapon. "It has this short pistol grip."

Ziva grabbed the handle at the rear of the attached accessory with delicate fingers and wrapped her hands around the grip, positioning her finger over the triggered with a contented sigh. "It has got a double action trigger, so do not pull it unless you are ready to fire. A straight pull to the rear cocks and fires in one motion. Single shot, but relatively quick reload considering the damage this will do."

She saw the look in their eyes, and apparently, they were more enthralled with her description of the gun than the actual firepower. She let a satisfied smirk cross her face as she stroked along the barrel of the gun with a delicate moan, "Rounds are muzzle loaded, and the design eliminates the need for a cartridge case, but watch out, because that ups the recoil so you probably don't want to let those kids over there handle this without a little practice."

Ziva hopped back into the truck and put the gun back, gesturing for the other one to be returned. She settled them back in the crate, as Tony turned to her with a nod. The money was all there.

"We got a little bonus for you." She said, turning to bend around one of the crates and pull out a smaller wooden box. "Ten rounds of each the HE Long and HE Short. Both are high explosive fragmentation grenades. Test them out and let us know which type you like better, perhaps next time we meet we could add an ammo purchase to the equation."

Carlos waved two of the men off guarding the door to help load the crates from one van to the other as he shook hands with Tony and gave Ziva a kiss on the back of her hand. "We will be in touch."

With that, Carlos returned to his car and sped off, leaving the lower men for finishing the pickup. Tony threw the briefcase into their now empty cargo van and slammed the doors as the other men got the last crate situated and started loading into the car again.

The driver turned to shake hands with Tony before they left and they exchanged minor pleasantries.

Suddenly, a load crackling echoed through the large hangar and McGee's voice played loudly through the intercom they had set up. "Boss!" he shouted excitedly, "We got company. About four minutes out on the service road we got three black Suburbans with government plates."

Tony watched as the men climbing into the van froze in mid motion. It was as if they had been stopped in their tracks by the moment and didn't know how to react. The driver was still holding Tony's hand in what was to be his parting handshake, apparently stuck in place.

Suddenly, one of the boys pulled his gun to his shoulder aiming it straight for Tony, fear and uncertainty in the young man's eyes causing his hands to shake and the clasp on the strap to rattle against the side of his weapon.

xoxo

A/N: Sorry to leave you all hanging, but this scene has gotten entirely longer than I expected and I have to get this up before midnight because I want to update tomorrow. Tomorrow is Saturday, so it won't be so late at night before I update again. Thanks for reading.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Gibbs was anxious as he watched the trade go down. His gut was churning and he found himself hoping it was the awful coffee he consumed earlier.

Fornell had met him in a hole in the wall diner. The coffee was worse than the atmosphere, which was saying a lot. The red vinyl seats were torn and tattered and the paint on the wall was peeling away with the wallpaper it had been slathered over top of.

Fortunately, this being their space, McGee had been able to rig up listening devices in the hangar, so that, at least, made their observation a little easier than it had been at the club.

"Wow," Abby piped up at one point, "Ziva really likes those guns." The amusement in her voice was a nice change of pace over the grumpy and mood woman he and McGee had been sharing this space with over the past few weeks.

Things seemed to be moving along smoothly, the money had been handed over, and the two they were planning to use to gain more leverage into the group had just pulled away. Guns were being shifted from one van to the other and they watched the final crate get loaded from white van to black.

"Stay alert, here we go." Gibbs said, though he knew the two were already locked on targets and waiting for any sign that this was going south.

Gibbs pulled out his phone and hit redial, Fornell answered on the first ring, "Go." Was all Gibbs said and it set Fornell's team and McGee in motion at the same time.

Gibbs watched as McGee relayed the information that the FBI was headed their direction to the group in the hangar. He felt his heart plummet as he watched a shaky boy raise his gun to point at Tony, knowing that one squeeze of that inexperienced boy's nervous finger could spell the end for his agents.

He heard Abby gasp and watched her freeze over the keyboard she was using to control the weapons. She was in charge of the non-lethal pepper spray bullets, but she didn't seem able to react as she watched the scene playing out in front of her eyes.

Gibbs cursed himself yet again for bringing her with on this, but then Tim reached over as if to swipe her keyboard and operate all the weapons simultaneously and she slapped his hand away.

xoxo

Ziva had been standing next to Tony as they made their final farewells to the group. She knew what was coming and couldn't help but wonder why they were positioned so directly in front of the open side door of the van where three young men waited with guns conveniently slung over their shoulders.

When one of the young boys raised his gun to point directly towards Tony's chest, she knew that from this distance of less than five feet the boy would certainly not miss. Her heart dropped into her stomach as she waited for their back up to engage, but nothing happened.

The boy's finger was twitching nervously, entirely too close to the trigger for her liking, but Tony seemed to take it all in stride. He pulled the driver directly into himself from their hands still joined from the handshake that never ended. Tony spun the driver and held him in a firm choke hold as a human shield.

The boy's finger lifted off the trigger as soon as he seemed to realize he would be killing one of their guys if he pulled it.

Just then, finally, a smattering of paintballs burst against his chest, sending him back further into the van with a small cloud of pepper spray and a look that combined confusion and pain contorting his features.

Ziva used the momentary distraction to disarm the three men in the van, quickly and violently. She started by kicking the side of the rolling door, slamming it into the legs of the man who had just been knocked inside and hearing a sickening crack just before the screaming started.

Not wasting any time on the surprise element they had built up, she took two quick steps and jumped, grabbing the cargo bar on the top of the van and swinging herself into the small compartment feet first. There was very little room for the three men after the guns had been loaded and she landed one of them square in the chest, knocking him fully against the other side of the van headfirst.

As she landed, she instantly pulled the gun from the third man's hands, wrenching it away easily and flinging it out the open side door. She disarmed the man on the ground and used the butt of his own weapon to knock him unconscious. The man she had kicked probably didn't need disarmed as he was out cold, but she threw his weapon outside anyway.

The last man standing was a boy, probably no older than seventeen. He was shaking with the fear of having watched this little woman sweep through like a tornado and efficiently take out his team.

As she climbed out of the van with the last man standing she saw the look of pure terror on the face of the driver.

"He's driving." Tony said to the driver as he gestured out the boy. "You're coming with us."

Ziva physically led the boy to the driver's side and placed him in. "If you make it out and we do not. Tell your boss that we have lots of friends who will be coming for him for this betrayal."

With that, she slammed the door and returned to find Tony had secured the driver with zip ties in the back of the van. "Two minutes, Boss." They heard McGee say and shared a smile that was quicker than they had thought it would be.

"Follow us!" he shouted to the boy in the other van who just nodded blankly.

"Damn it." He heard from the back of the van where Ziva was searching the driver's pockets. She was holding up a cell phone. "How stupid are you?" she asked the man who didn't seem able to say anything as she moved to the front, flung the phone out the window and put a clean bullet hole straight through the middle with her handgun.

The tires squealed as Tony peeled out, the black van following, but at a much slower rate of acceleration. The way he seemed to swerve in the rear view, he had either never driven before, or he was so completely scared out of his mind that he wasn't able to see straight.

Tony made a quick turn at the end of the long stretch of Hangars, taking them in the opposite direction from the service road and off to a back road they had scouted before ever deciding on this hangar for storage.

"Your boy back there is having a hard time keeping up. Don't you guys ever let him drive?" Tony asked the man who had been slamming around in the back of the van silently except a few grunts after his capture.

Apparently, the question was enough to get a rise out of him, "He's fifteen!" the man shouted at them as if they were the ones who were idiots for him bringing a kid with to a gun buy.

"Never bring a boy to do a lamb's job." Ziva responded and the angry cursing and yelling from their passenger in the back drowned out Tony's laughter, "Man." He corrected, "Never bring a boy to do a _man's_ job."

Ziva turned to him and winked, "I know." She said with a smirk and they both felt the relief of having survived the situation, though there was much ahead of them.

They took another turn; the loud slam in the back was followed this time by a muffled groan and then silence.

Tony looked in his rear view mirror and could see the other van finally coming into view behind them around the last corner. He led the boy to the main highway, heading away from the airport in the opposite direction the FBI had approached from and then the boy was on his own as Tony floored it swerving around traffic and getting off the freeway around a blind curve.

Finally losing the boy, he glanced over to see Ziva Texting the van's direction to Gibbs, knowing he would have the FBI surrounding it in no time. Either they had sealed their fate with the Rodriguez cartel, completely blowing their cover, or this man in the back was going to prove useful in getting them back in the door.

xoxo

Gibbs breathed a sigh of relief as he intercepted the text and called Fornell back to get the teams moving in the right direction to get the guns back. Hopefully, they could catch the van in time.

McGee was following it on the traffic cameras and Gibbs put Fornell on speaker so McGee could relay the information. As far as anyone outside of Tobias Fornell knew, they had tracked one of the Rodriguez men's cell phones to the gun buy and had lucked into finding the van on traffic cameras after they left the scene.

The FBI had been given the general area to be in, but not a specific hangar, so their op would proceed without too much involvement unless they were able to get a warrant to search all the hangars in the lot or more details to narrow down their search.

The relayed instructions told them to blow right past the hangars, because the gang was on the move. The FBI was not able to keep up on the unfamiliar roads, but eventually had found their way to the highway. McGee now had screens changing to follow each traffic camera, keeping an eye on the black van, while Abby did the same on two of the screens, following the progress of the FBI vehicles.

The FBI vehicles were closing fast on the erratically swerving black van and would catch up in a matter of minutes. They didn't have that long, however, as they watched on screen, a patrol car pulled out from a blind spot, lights flashing as it barreled onto the highway in pursuit of the van.

As they watched and conveyed the information to Fornell, the van accelerated harder, weaving in and out of traffic precariously. There were several near misses. The van swerved to go around a black sedan, the cop in hot pursuit, lights and sirens warning those in front that they had better get out of the way. Some obliged, moving to the right, but the pursuit was moving at too fast a speed as they rounded a corner there was a slowdown from heavy traffic merging in from a downtown on ramp.

The corner was nearly blind and they watched the van's brake lights lock in just before the vehicle jerked violently to the left, smashing into the cement barricade and then swerving back across traffic. Everything happened so fast. Before the cop in pursuit could react, the van was sideways in front of them.

Brakes were not enough to stop the patrol car as it made contact with the side of the van. They watched in silence as the front of the cop car crumpled and seemed to transfer its forward motion to the van that began to tumble, rolling several times.

The damage caused the back doors to fly open, crates flying out and smashing on the road, revealing their cargo for the world to see. Abby cried out as she saw two men thrown from the rear of the van just before it came to a rest on its side.

It seemed that everything stopped around that one scene and Gibbs felt that familiar tightening in his gut. This was definitely going to make the news and now their little mission was going to become a public spectacle.

Gibbs groaned as he relayed the accident info and hung up on Fornell.

"I'm going to the safe house." He told the two, "We need to get what we can from the driver, so we can end this before it gets any more out of hand." There was no response as Tim and Abby continued to stare at the destruction on the screen in front of them.

xoxo

A/N: Sorry guys, but another fanfic plot line has cropped into my head and demanded attention while I was writing this. It is not related, so extremely so that it's not even for the same show.

I will be splitting my attention, but we're getting to all the action, so I should still be able to keep up with the updates. If I don't update on one of the five days I have been doing so lately, I'm sorry and I blame my other story.

I will continue to post on this 3-5 times a week, even if I have to force my other story to the back burner. It's not fair that it's trying to cut in line, anyway. ;)


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Tony found himself equal parts terrified and aroused as he watched Ziva circle the man they had grabbed from the hangar, absentmindedly twirling her Ka-Bar tactical knife. He was enthralled with the smooth motions as she spun the weapon deftly in her fingers.

He wondered if she learned this skill while other young girls were playing with dolls. Perhaps a better correlation, he thought, would be while other girls were learning similar motions with far less deadly items, like batons.

He had the sudden thought of the movie Miss Congeniality and flaming batons being as close to dangerous as those baton twirlers got. Then he was right back to Ziva and how if she took this knife twirling, put it to music, maybe threw a few of them at targets, she'd sweep the talent portion of those competitions.

He shifted his gaze from her to the man fidgeting from his spot, tied to a chair in the middle of the dim, dusty basement of their safe house. The man was Hector Ortiz according to his license, and he was just a driver for the Rodriguez cartel according to his strangled confession earlier. Ziva had said or done something while he was out of the room texting the driver's stats to McGee to get a background. He didn't see a mark on the guy, but a few minutes after he came back in the room the man was spilling everything he knew about his job and his role in the pick up or delivery of the good.

The man swore he knew nothing about the FBI closing in on them and he had left his phone on by mistake after calling Carlos Rodriguez.

Tony's phone buzzed in his pocket and he waved Ziva over to inspect the info they had just received from McGee on the man who sat before them.

Moving back towards the man with a sinister grin, Ziva began circling him again and Tony couldn't help thinking that aside from the technicality that the driver was still alive, her actions were like that of a vulture. Ready to swoop in at any moment, but making lazy circles and lying in wait.

"You will tell us about Eduardo Rodriguez. You will tell us why he wants us in jail." Ziva said, stopping behind the man and resting the military knife on his shoulder, running the serrated edge at the bottom over the man's neck, but pulling back just before the sharp edge cut into his flesh.

"I can't tell you anything, there is nothing else to say. I work for Carlos, not Eduardo, and even then I don't get my orders from him, they always come through the chain." The man was sweating and panting, struggling futilely with the binds on his wrist and ankles. Tony knew from experience that the man was going to leave this with very serious rope burns if he didn't relax on the wiggling soon.

Ziva clicked her tongue in a disapproving manner as she shook her head, though the man could not see her behind him.

She leaned over near his ear and whispered, "You just do not want to tell me." She said with no anger or emotion, simply stating a fact as if it were concrete and not supposition.

"There's nothing to tell." The man's words left his mouth forcefully as if he were throwing them at both agents.

"We know how this works, Hector. May I call you Hector?" she didn't wait for his response. "You are likely concerned that if you tell us anything it will put your friends and family in danger."

Tony watched the man stiffen, but he didn't have a response to that.

"Let me tell you something, Hector." This time, Ziva said his name with disdain as if merely having to address him by name was an inconvenience she did not have the time for. "What your 'gang' would do to your pretty little girl is nothing compared to what I have planned."

The man paled considerably and his fight returned, causing him to jerk and rock as he tried in vain to get out of his restraints.

Then Ziva leaned in closer to his ear and her whisper was soft, like that of a lover. Tony saw the torment of what she was doing to this man play across her expressive brown eyes, and was certain that's why she was standing behind Hector now, instead of in his line of sight.

"Lindsey and I, we could become really good friends." She said in a voice that indicated the exact opposite.

"Don't you touch my daughter you sick bitch!" Ortiz screamed as his face instantly went from pale as the snow to flushed red with anger. In his desperation to get away from them, his wrist had started to bleed from the severity of his thrashing against the ropes.

"Tell her what she wants to hear and this will all be over." Tony told the man sincerely.

They really needed to get this guy to talk or Tony was going to go insane. Hearing words like those from her mouth as her eyes screamed at him to make the violent images that played through her mind go away. He had to do something, but the man just kept shaking his head, mouth clamped closed in protection of the men he feared more than he fear what he and Ziva could do to him.

Ziva shook her head at him from behind, indicating that she would like to go on, but she couldn't seem to find the words.

Tony slid a chair over and casually sat in it. He was close enough to Hector Ortiz that the man could have reached out and touched him, if the man had the ability to do that.

Taking a breath, Tony gave the man what he hoped would come off as a friendly smile, but locked eyes with him so he wouldn't mistake the words for a gesture of peace. "Look, our fight is not with you, but if you make this about you then we will do what we have to do."

Without a response from the man, he continued, praying that this story was far enough from any kind of truth Ziva had been a part of or witnessed in her former life as an assassin with Mossad. " Ella really does love children, but sometimes, the only way to get what you need is to do things you don't want to do. We all do things we don't want to do and I know you don't want to tell us what we need to know, but you're going to."

"You wouldn't hurt her; she has nothing to do with any of this." The man was no longer struggling with his restraints and his eyes glistened as his voice took on a desperate tone.

Tony shrugged and looked past the man to Ziva as he asked, "Was it Turkey last year? Yeah." He answered his own question, "Hector, have you ever heard the phrase, The sins of the father? Sometimes, when a man choses a certain life, no matter what he does, his family will always be a part of the job. You have chosen one of those professions where you family is free game. We were dealing with a low level Turkish punk who thought he could get away with slipping us forged bills. His girl was seven and the boy was five. They were not part of our vendetta, but the sins of their father brought them into the equation."

Tony watched as he spoke and the blood completely drained from the man's face. He hoped the driver finally realized that he had chosen the wrong profession, but there was one last nail to get in his mental coffin and the man would surely be like putty. Tony felt his stomach clench and nausea threatened, but he fought to keep a level face and that silly half smile that probably made him look like a raging psychopath with this conversation topic.

"Ella will be glad we do not have to kill your girl, though. She's twelve, old enough to marry in some countries and definitely pretty enough to fetch a good price."

Tony counted, hoping anything might distract him from the sudden need to wash the filth of this person whose skin he had crawled into for an undercover assignment. It took exactly two seconds for the words and their meaning to sink in to Hector Ortiz's brain before the man was openly weeping and speaking so quickly that it was hard to keep up.

xoxo

Gibbs waited outside the room, listening, and grateful, not for the first time, that he had chosen the two most carefully guarded people he knew for this assignment. Anyone who was not as fluent at putting on masks of calm or confidence when they were feeling anything less than perfect would have completely blown this mission in the tiny room.

He knew Ziva could intimidate, especially after the way she had cleaned up in the airplane hangar right in front of their prisoner, but what surprised and troubled him was DiNozzo.

Gibbs knew that tremulous note in his voice, only because he had been listening to the young man for so many years. He knew that Tony was completely uncomfortable in his own skin, but if he didn't know the man, he would interpret the tone as icy with an undercurrent of ridiculously misplaced humor. He could almost picture the face DiNozzo was pointing at the man now, casually sitting or standing with a half-smile and his eyes a little too wide, probably looking to all the world that didn't know him, like a raging sociopath.

He couldn't help a flinch himself as he heard the threat issued from Tony's mouth. He knew that his senior agent was speaking fictitiously about fake children and making threats he would certainly not follow through on. All the same, DiNozzo was kindhearted and gentle, Gibbs knew that real or fake, using these kids in disgusting threats would sear them to him and the man would probably add the small children to his long list of demons beckoning at the door of his subconscious as he tried to sleep.

Gibbs knew this was the hardest part of being undercover, aside from sitting around waiting all the time. Pretending to be someone who was so far from the real you, but possessing so many of the same qualities as you have that when you go home you look in the mirror and for a while it is them you see staring back at you and not yourself at all.

It is easier with a partner, someone you can lean on, someone to remind you of your humanity under the inhuman mask you put on for the job. Ziva would be there as he took the mask off and hopefully, there would be enough of the real Anthony DiNozzo left after this for her to help him build himself back up.

Gibbs jotted notes without thinking about what he was doing, cataloguing the words that tumbled from Hector Ortiz's mouth between sobs and the sniffling.

He heard Ziva come back into the conversation as the sound of chair legs scraping the floor shortly drown out the man's sobbing. "We are going to blindfold you. When we drop you off you will count to twenty five before you remove the mask or we will come back for your little girl."

"Yes, OK." The man seemed stunned that he was not going to be killed after having seen and said so much, but there was still a strong layer of fear and distrust.

Tony's voice filtered through, "And give your boss a message for us. Tell him 'no one messes with the Malcuso family and lives to tell the tale.' Tell him that my ninja and I are coming for him, and we're coming without mercy."

xoxo

A/N: A little shorter than usually, but I was distracted because I took on a foster dog for the day. She wandered into the yard and it's freezing outside. Found the owner on the next block over around eight at night and she's now home safe and sound. She was an energetic thing and kept me from work for several hours today.

This was written in far too much haste, though I had plotted it mentally all day. It is far more rough then I am used to feeding you guys, but I'm too impatient to put off posting until tomorrow, because then I'll miss a whole day, since I already plan to have a Monday post as well.

Should, hopefully, have something new up tomorrow.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

McGee was finally off the phone with Fornell. Gibbs had passed his phone to McGee when he left and Abby had made Gibbs take hers, not that he would know how to use it, in case they needed to keep in touch.

They had laid out the plan with the FBI taking credit for the gun bust, but that meant they would also have to take the hit for the accident. The police officer had been airlifted off the highway; two of the three boys were dead and the third in critical condition. There was no word yet on the officer's condition or whether he would make it.

Fornell had not been happy that they would endure most of the bad press of this mess, but he would hold true to the story for the sake of their mission and protecting their people undercover.

"That," Tim said in reference to the phone call, "would have been a lot harder to take if you weren't here."

He could feel Abby smile against his cheek. Her arms were wrapped around him from behind and her chin was resting on his shoulder. While the pressure of her chin digging into his collarbone was irritating, the feeling of having her with him in this moment far outweighed any discomfort.

Abby pulled the plug on the headphones she had been listening to the interrogation through while he was on the phone and the sound of Ziva intimidating the driver filled the room. She moved around to take a seat in his lap and he gladly wrapped his arms around her as they watched the interrogation play out from three different angles.

From here, they both saw the shift in Ziva, where she and Tony made eye contact and communicated that he needed to take the lead for a while.

"It's crazy how they can do that, huh?" she asked him as they watched Tony take the silent request and jump in.

He felt Abby start to tremble as they watched Ziva's face and heard Tony's words. Tony was a pro, never hinting at the inner turmoil he was feeling, but behind the suspect, hovering close to him and obviously making him nervous, Ziva had an expression on her face that made her look almost lost.

McGee couldn't help thinking that if just saying these things and hearing them had that kind of effect on her, how did she ever handle doing some of the stuff she did with Mossad.

He had to conclude that she was, in fact, a different person back then. A different person than greeted them with a cheery smile in the morning or made obviously insincere death threats.

McGee had the urge to pull out his laptop again and start cataloguing the changes in these two. It was the kind of character development he would love to have thought of himself and the juxtaposition of this hard scene and the tender look on her face made his fingers itch.

"No." he heard Abby say.

"What?"

"I know what you're thinking, your fingers are twitching, you want to be writing this all down, but let me tell you something, this is too personal for you to put on paper. This is not a side of them that your readers need to see and this is not a side of them that they are interested in reading about next year and remembering the monsters they had to become to solve this one."

He felt the itch in his fingers dissipate and he started rubbing her back as she relaxed into him.

As soon as the man they had been interrogating had finished spilling his guts and answering every question they had, Ziva tied a blind fold on the man and dragged a burlap sack over his face.

Once the blindfold was on, they watched as their friends shared a quiet moment, apparently consoling each other and seeking comfort at the same time. A small smile was shared and the moment was over; it was time to move.

"Switch it to the car?" He asked as they moved the now blindfolded prisoner to the garage where Gibbs had parked. Abby reached out her hand and clicked a few buttons on the computer.

The screens were blank, but the audio changed as the doors were opened and the passengers climbed in.

"Is there anything else you need to tell us, Hector?" Ziva asked, her tone considerably brighter having apparently left the hard-nosed interrogator in the basement.

"Please." The man begged several times before he choked out weakly, "Please don't hurt my baby. Please let me go home to her."

"How about this?" Tony asked with a level voice as if he were offering the man a choice between chicken and fish for his inflight dinner, "You pass on our message and get the hell out of town. As I said, you are not our concern, but by letting you live, you now owe us your life. Take that little girl and go. Get a respectable job. Make her proud of you. If you don't follow-through, believe me, we'll know, and we'll hunt you down like the dog you obviously are."

The man was sobbing again, but this time with the first glimmer of hope obviously having permeated the terror of this situation. His hands had finally stopped shaking and he simply nodded as they continued to drive.

Gibbs made several loops through multiple neighborhoods so the man wouldn't be able to trace his way back to where they had held him. It was almost an hour of seemingly endless weaving back and forth before Gibbs pulled into a dark alley.

"You can start counting as soon as you hear us drive away. Remember, if you want you and your daughter to have a chance you will not take off the blindfold before you have finished." Ziva reminded him as Tony quickly removed him from the back of the car and deposited him in a sitting position next to a dumpster in the deep shadows.

"Thank you. Thank you, so much. Thank you." The man continued to chant as Tony climbed back into the car and they drove away.

Ziva was glad this little part of it was over. Tony probably shouldn't have told the man to skip town, because he would be a wanted man by the end of the day. She still found it very sweet of him to give the driver a little bit of hope after the level of fear and despair they had put him through.

Finally able to breathe a sigh of relief, Ziva sank into Tony's side and he pulled her close with an arm around her as they shared a moment of silence

After a few seconds, she felt a chuckle rumble through Tony's chest that vibrated against her cheek where it rested over his heart. "That was intense," he finally said and she recognized the nervous energy rolling off him in waves.

"You did a good job." She responded, hoping it was what he needed to hear after that look she had caught in his eyes. The look of deep welling sadness and disgust that showed only in his eyes as he threatened to sell that man's child into some kind of sex trade.

"Me?" he said, his voice rising with the adrenaline finally allowed to course freely through his veins, "Are you kidding? You were amazing."

She felt herself cringe inwardly as he complemented her for showing the monstrous side of herself she had tried so hard to leave behind when she walked away from Mossad.

He either didn't notice, or he was trying to get away from it as much as her because he continued talking, "What was that knife twirling thing? That was probably the most frightening thing that has ever turned me on."

Ziva couldn't help it, when he said stuff like that to her she couldn't fight falling into the silliness with him and before she knew it, she was laughing.

She wasn't sure if it was true laughter or that born of nervous energy, but at the same time she didn't care in this moment. "When you spend a lot of time with knives, you pick up a few things."

He didn't seem to have anything to say to that and she kicked herself for dousing their tentative grasp on a good mood, so she resorted to his tactics, "Plus, when I was nineteen I met this musician. He played the drums and he was always walking around twirling his sticks. I thought it was interesting, so whenever I was on a stake out or had some down time I would practice twirling my knives."

Tony chuckled at the picture of her trying to teach herself how to do that and perhaps that explained those three little scars he had found the other day when he set himself on a mission to kiss every inch of her.

"What happened to him?" he asked, instead of asking about scars. He didn't want to be wrong and then drag her back into something negative.

Ziva laughed, "I had intentionally not practiced twirling my knives in front of him until I felt like I was very good at it. I was finally confident in my skill, we were hanging out one night, and he walked through the house twirling one of his sticks. I reached in my leg holster and pulled out my knife. I started twirling it, but when he noticed what I was doing, instead of being proud of my new skill, he was apparently frightened. He never looked at me the same after that."

Tony was laughing as she had expected, "There are two options. He was either not totally straight, because that was the hottest thing I have ever seen anyone do with a knife, or it was bigger than what he had in his pants and you scared the crap out of him."

"It would probably be the last one, he was, what is that thing you say? Hung like a Tic-Tac-Toe?"

He laughed again and she was finally feeling herself start to relax, in his good mood. "Just a Tic-Tac. The breath mint in those little plastic containers?"

"Oh," she said, grinning as she pulled away from him, "Well, perhaps a little better than that." She illustrated on her fingers and he laughed with her.

As their laughter died down, she felt Tony squeeze her shoulders, "You really were amazing, you know that?"

She sighed, but had no desire to move back into that conversation.

"You should have seen yourself, it was so believable. You should have gone into acting, seriously."

She heard the humor back in his voice and felt herself relax into his embrace again, "I am sure that would have been a very smooth transition. From Mossad to Hollywood. I would be stuck in the girl villain roles like, that woman in the black leather suit on that Batman movie?"

"Ooh," Tony moaned, the sound deeper in tone as it echoed through his chest, "You would be _hot_ as Catwoman." he breathed huskily across her hair.

"Yes, that is the one. Catwoman."

She felt him shift as he shook his head, "You could do more than dangerous. I was thinking about Miss Congeniality while you twirled your knives."

"The baton twirler?" she asked.

"Ah, you know me so well." She felt his arms squeeze her again, tenderly stroking her back where she sat.

"You could have pulled off that kind of role, not the twirler, the agent." His voice was contemplative and she heard a warm note of adoration. "Of course, I think that turning you boring and unattractive for the start of the movie would have been even less believable then it was when they did it to Sandra Bullock."

Ziva pulled back to look him in the eyes and see how much of that was a joke and how serious he was being, with a smile she started quoting his favorite line from the movie, being careful to use the right sing-song voice and even let the contractions fall comfortably off her tongue, "You think I'm gorgeous. You think I'm sexy. You want to kiss me."

He didn't hesitate and leaned in with a sultry grin to plant a kiss on her that made her feet tense in her shoes. It took her a moment of focus to realize what she was doing and then she couldn't stop the little grin as she realized, he had literally made her toes curl. She had always thought that was just another America turn of phrase.

"Ok, enough with the grab-ass back there." Gibbs cut in suddenly and she and Tony flinched apart, not used to having an audience, "Get in the hotel and grab your gear, you can't come back here. Make it quick."

Once they were out of the car and moving quickly into the hotel Lobby, Gibbs pulled the limo out of the way of the hotel's entrance and parked along a grassy stretch to the side of the small parking lot. He couldn't stop the grin.

Yep, he thought, they were going to be fine as long as they had each other to rely on.

xoxo

A/N: OK, so they got a little silly there, but I think after all that stress they deserved a moment to unwind.

I should have a new chapter Wednesday. My other plot is calling me, but I am a whole lot more invested in this one, so it's either going to need a Tuesday post for that one or wait until Thursday. Provided it listens and isn't a bully, I'll see you all on Wednesday.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Tony wiped his hands against his jeans, wishing he could have a while longer to prepare for this. He wouldn't have minded another couple of months of hand-to-hand combat training with Ziva, though his one on one fighting had improved since they began dating. He almost laughed at that, as far as he could remember, aside from this mission, there had been very little 'dating' going on.

The darkness was concealing their position, at least for the moment and they waited patiently in the quiet that only ever exists in these late night hours.

He and Ziva shared a look that said everything; both knowing words now could get them stopped before anything went down. He couldn't help leaning into her for a brief kiss. They both knew the danger involved in what they were about to do and more than the hangar a few hours before, he was worried they wouldn't make it back out again.

He knew that there was no one he would prefer to have watching out for him in this kind of situation, however, there was also no one that he wanted further away from the potential danger. He reached a hand up to cup her cheek and let his thumb trail over the skin there as they shared a silent moment.

She pulled away from him suddenly, her eyes going hard and deadly serious and nodded at him a mere second before the power to the building was cut and she pulled on her night vision goggles. He followed suit and they rose up to peer over the stone wall around the perimeter of Eduardo Rodriguez's house.

They watched as several guards circling the perimeter dropped, one after another and heard the strangled cry from each. They knew Gibbs had a prime spot to clear the back of the house where there was sure to be less activity, but with the sudden darkness engulfing the sprawling mansion, they were sure to be met with anywhere from six to fifty men, depending on how quickly forces had been mobilized by the Rodriguez cartel.

Seeing a clearing in the guards on the back of the property, Ziva made a lithe move and was quickly over the chest high wall. He followed behind her, unable to stop a moment of pride in his recent fitness regimen and healthy eating thanks to the woman moving stealthy from one spot of cover to the next in front of him.

He watched her dart away from the cover of the well-groomed bush they had been behind. He was about to follow when he saw her duck behind a birdbath. There wasn't enough room in that spot for him, much less joining her. Instead, he scans the perimeter again, making sure no one is sneaking around to pull up behind them as she darts to a tree and he follows.

There is only room for one behind the tree so he steps behind her, pressing his weight into her back as she glances around one side of the tree and he does around the other. The contact is fleeting, but the comfort and reassurance bolsters his confidence as they move again.

"Clear." He says on a whisper of a breath and they are moving again.

Eyes scanning the yard for movement as they approach and finally are flush against the rough brick exterior of their target house. This was it.

He followed Ziva, trusting her photographic memory to recall where the most vulnerable spots of the house were from McGee's run down on the blue prints. He felt like he was making a racket, but knew Ziva would have ditched him long ago if she thought he would compromise this mission or put either one of them in dangerous, so it must be his heightened senses that were interpreting each step he took as loud as a gong.

She started to scale the wall, the bricks providing just enough leeway to grab hold with her fingertips and pull herself up. He watched her silently ascend the side of this mansion, and then crouched down to turn his attention back to scanning for activity.

He saw movement along the side of the house and he held still, hoping not to draw attention to himself as he waited a few more paces for the man to be fully behind the house and watched him drop to the ground with a low groan.

Even with tranquilizer darts, Tony did not want to be on the other end of a sniper rifle from his boss. After another thirty seconds he felt the shift in the air as a rope was dropped down to him. He ascended the building, following Ziva's track, using the rope in place of the tiny brink finger holds that never would have sustained his larger frame and hands on a climb, even if it were only up two stories. She was waiting silently on the balcony when he finally huffed himself over the edge.

They remained there, aside the glass double doors for several moments and Tony was sure it was because Ziva knew he needed to catch his breath after that climb. When his breathing evened out, she scanned the room intently before moving in front of the door.

It took a matter of seconds before she had silently picked the lock and they moved into the vacant room. Slowly and carefully, they made their way through the house, subtle noises were drifting through the open door of this bedroom, but they sounded distant. Tony was not willing to gamble that they were alone up here and he knew she wasn't either as she crouched near the floor to peer around the door frame up one direction and back down the other.

She stood and they moved together, out of the room, silently making their way through each room from that one to the stairs. After they had cleared the top floor, finding no resistance, they cautiously made their way down the stairs, knowing that this was the weakest point of their entry.

The stairwell was open and exposed from the long wide hall at the bottom. Anyone keeping watch on the second floor could easily spot them. Ziva stopped just before the opening in the railing where their feet would become visible and did some kind of maneuver that made him tilt his head to the side and wonder exactly why he hadn't been putting her full flexibility to the test.

Her left hand grabbing the railing, her right holding her weapon close to her body she crouched and bent nearly in half so that her head was between her feet and slowly lowered it further until she was nearly resting her head on the next stair down. He watched her look across the expanse of hallway for a long moment, allowing her night vision goggles to take in the entire situation before she moved more than her neck.

He began to wonder if she would pass out from having all the blood rush to her head, but she quickly and quietly rose to her feet and started down the stairs. They swept the second floor, putting a tranquilizer in a man sleeping in one of the rooms. After checking him to confirm he wasn't the man they were after, they moved through the rest of the floor, finding nothing.

They knew the men hadn't left. There was a surprise waiting for them out the front that would have been loud enough to alert Tony and Ziva to their attempt to flee and Gibbs and his tranquilizers would have quickly and quietly dispatched anyone sent out back.

Flipping their night vision goggles up off their eyes they shared a look in the nearly pitch black.

As they approached the staircase that would bring them to the main floor where anyone still in the house was sure to be gathered, Tony pulled a laser pointer out of his vest pocket and flashed it out the small window just to the side of the stairwell.

As he turned back, he recognized the look in her eyes and felt his heart skip a beat. He didn't want to see that look on her face, didn't want her to actually be telling him that she was leaving him behind, didn't want to think about the fact that she either didn't trust him to watch her back or didn't expect him to be able to pull his own on this. He shook his head at her, not willing to stay here while she walked in to a danger they hadn't fully assessed.

She leaned in to him, placing her lips directly against his ear as she spoke on a soft whisper so the sound wouldn't travel, "I need to get the charges in place, and I'm going to need you to back me up if anything goes wrong. We have to split up."

Her tone was level, but he knew her so well. There was nothing in her tone that should have worried him, but he still felt goose bumps rise on his flesh as she moved away from him. Cautiously, silently, she proceeded down the stairs and he felt a sudden desire to keep her in his sights for as long as possible, concern weighing heavy when he could no longer see her.

xoxo

Abby was absently chewing on her thumbnail. She hated waiting. She really hated waiting when she didn't have anyone to talk to, didn't even have the comfort of the familiar sounds of her lab back home. She hoped that whoever was processing evidence back home was treating all her babies properly.

She stopped as she realized she had been pacing and pulled up the cell phone trace on Gibbs and McGee again. They hadn't moved, Gibbs in the back, McGee in the front.

She knew as soon as their phones moved, all hell was finally breaking loose and she let out her frustrated sigh. Being cooped up in this place had been awful, and thinking it was going to, hopefully, be over soon had bolstered her mood. Sitting here, waiting for the raid on Rodriguez's mansion, however, was driving her up the wall.

She couldn't see anything other than the blinking lights from their cell phone GPS signals, and she was starting to fall apart a little.

Abby wished there was some part of this plan written for her, something she could do or data she could analyze. She eyed her Caf-Pow! lying across the desk from her and wrinkled her nose at it. She knew she was in a terrible place when not even the thought of her favorite drink could bring a modicum of cheer to her night.

She could blame it on being tired, she could blame it on the stress, the wasted energy, the fact that after all their preparations and all their set up that they hadn't even needed her for part of their cover and she could have stayed home, but it was none of those things. Abby was worried about her friends walking into a firefight carrying nothing more than drugs in their guns.

She was worried about Gibbs, resorting to his sniper tactics and what he would go through if he were up in a tree while something, anything, happened to a member of his team. If he was not fast enough to get to them, if he felt he didn't provide adequate coverage. She had seen his tough countenance crack on a couple of occasions, and they were peripherally related to protecting someone. If it had actually been his soul mission to protect Kate or Jenny Sheppard, the fall out would have been far more severe, she knew that.

She was worried about Tony and Ziva who were walking right into the lion's den. They were both supremely capable, but it only took a second, a single slip up or someone being a microsecond faster than either one of them for things to go horribly wrong. She had watched them closely over the last several weeks and they had developed a sort of symbiosis. If something happened to either one, she was sure she would lose both of them.

She was worried, mostly, and selfishly, about Tim. He would be driving into danger any minute. He was in charge of the distraction and, in all likelihood, would be an easy target for gunfire. They hadn't even let her loose on the car to put in extra safety features or beef up the bullet resistance. If something happened to him, she wasn't sure how to cope. She had finally let down her guard, finally willing to let someone in.

She knew, logically, that she had been ridiculous. Blocking people out from the most intimate sides of her because she didn't want to feel the pain she had experienced at losing her father. The pain she had witnessed her mother experience as she flailed at an attempt to keep on living without her husband.

She never wanted to feel that kind of love because it opened her up to that kind of hurt. Losing a friend was hard enough, how do you cope with losing your other half?

Jolted out of her inner turmoil by a loud crash from the main lab space, it took Abby a moment to realize that it was glass breaking. Without thinking, she bolted to the door separating the surveillance room from the lab area and yanked it open, shocked to see Carlos Rodriguez coming through the broken glass door behind Jose Esposito, guns gripped firmly in their hands.

xoxo

A/N: OK, so I only heard from Pirate-Princess on the last chapter, hope you guys are still with me. I hope it's not feeling too rushed now and sorry to leave you hanging times two, but there is so much coming that I have to find the appropriate stopping point or I'll post 12,000 word chapters once a week instead of 2-3 thousand every M, W, F, Sa, Su.

Speaking of that, the new story I mentioned is fighting hard to get free and I'm probably going to skip out on a post every now and then to do that. I can't keep writing two chapters a day (one for each story) because I'm not getting any sleep. You should probably see a post on the normal Friday, because I already feel awful leaving you two days with that ending, but probably only one update on the weekend.

Speaking of no sleep and two chapters in one day… any errors, as always, my fault and if this is rough, yeah, that's me too. Sorry.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Gibbs was trying to remain calm, slow steady breaths and conscious effort to relax his heart rate. He knew that a sniper was far less effective if his pulse was elevated or he didn't monitor his breathing.

There had been very little activity since DiNozzo ascended the rope behind Ziva for which he was glad. If they weren't sending guys out the back or around to check on the others there was a chance this was going to be far easier than they had imagined. Perhaps the manpower was more limited than they had set out to handle, but he reigned in the positive thoughts before they got the better of him.

He knew from experience that as soon as you let your guard down is when you were sucker punched. He continued scanning the dark backyard, his night vision scope making this like shooting fish in a barrel, knowing that each man crossing behind the house was proceeding nearly blind and then falling with only a pinch of pain as warning.

"Signal from the window." He heard McGee through his earpiece.

Carefully he shifted his hand to his microphone button, "We move in two." He responded, and then made one more scan of the area before slinging his rifle over his shoulder as he quickly made his way out of the tree and moved to the stone wall.

He hopped the chest high stone wall and felt his left knee protest as he dropped to the other side. Pulling his night vision goggles onto his eyes and taking the pistol from his hip holster he scanned the backyard and proceeded through the yard swiftly, not stopping as his agents had to check his way.

He relied on continuously sweeping his gaze across the yard, because he did not have the pleasure of much time to be cautious. His internal clock told him they had less a minute before attention was diverted to the front and he was able to slip in the back.

He waited near a door in the back, knowing it would take him through a mudroom into the kitchen and out to the living room area. About ten seconds before his internal clock said it was time; he heard the sound of tires squealing and knew McGee was peeling out and charging into the front to draw the men out.

He heard shouting followed by gunfire and burst through the back door, gun at the ready, taking down a man who had just been setting down a glass on the counter.

He only got a few steps into the house and he already had to take out a second person, this one with his gun nearly all the way out of the holster. He was eternally grateful for the fast acting sedative that seemed to paralyze the men immediately, because another two seconds of ability to react and the man would have his gun out.

He heard the sound of a scuffle from the front of the house and continued to make his way through. A man stepped out of a room to the side of him with his gun in hand. Gibbs quickly disarmed him and dispatched a tranquilizer.

Gunfire continued and he heard the tires peeling out again, knowing McGee was making his way back out the front driveway. Attention diverted, his agent was done with his part of playing the target, Gibbs was glad to hear the gunfire start to slow and knew McGee had made it to the street when he heard, "I'm clear."

After taking out another man, he dragged him into a room, glad for the thought of concealing the man's body as he heard heavy footfalls moving his direction. As a man ran past the room on his way towards the front of the house, Gibbs stepped out and quickly put a dart in his back, watching him fall face first and wondering briefly how many teeth the man lost falling that hard straight onto his face.

He heard a sudden commotion from the front of the house, but as he approached McGee's panicked voice in his earpiece stopped him cold.

"Boss, the lab, Abby, there's, the. . ." he wished he could snap at his agent and tell him to spit it out, but as he took a step into one of the rooms to conceal himself to listen to the stuttering, he finally got the words out. "I got a silent alarm from the lab, Gibbs. Someone's in there with Abby."

A wave of fear washed over him, like waterfall of winter run off that chilled his bones where he stood. He knew this was his fault, if anything happened to her it was on him. He should have moved her to an FBI safe house or something. Anything to get her in a place where she wasn't alone.

His mind ran rampant for all of five seconds, but long enough for him to picture too many things he would never want to happen to her. He hit the button on his microphone and told McGee three words that killed him to speak. "Hold your position."

His pulse was racing and with renewed vigor, he moved back into the siege. The faster this was over the quicker they could go to Abby. As he moved through and dispatched with several men more violently than was necessary, he couldn't help the dread that shrouded him as if it were something tangible he could hold and look upon.

Tearing through the various guards, houseguest, hell, he would have shot granny full of tranquilizers in his blind rage, his only thought was the burning need to get back to Abby before it was too late.

He heard the sound of metal skittering over hardwood, followed shortly by a loud pop and a bright flash at the end of the hall. He threw the night vision goggles off his eyes as he ran towards the flash bang grenade. He didn't care that he was having trouble seeing from the intensity of the light that had filtered into the night vision goggles.

As he approached the room, he spotted a man and took the shot. Sinking a tranquilizer in him and noting that even disoriented, he was apparently still a good shot.

xoxo

Ziva had managed to avoid detection down the stairs and around into what looked like a library or some kind of office. Finding it vacant, she moved to the exterior access wall and placed a charge, securing the blasting cap and moving the detonator into her pocket. The safety was on, but she was still careful of that pocket as she made her way back out to the living room.

She only encountered two men on her way there and she was able to take them out in quick succession so by the time the second one realized their cohort was falling to the ground, he was on his way to join the other man.

Reaching the entrance to the living room, the last room to check that Gibbs wouldn't be sweeping through on his way to meet them, she pulled up tightly against the wall. Looking around one last time for signs of guards to sneak up on her, she pulled the flash bang grenade from her pocket, deftly removed the pin with her teeth so she could keep her gun ready to fire.

She flung the grenade into the living room, as she did so she noticed there were six men besides the one they were after, gathered with their guns at the ready. Apparently, the sight of the grenade was enough to distract them momentarily and by the time they brought their weapons up to point at her, she had ducked behind a wall and pulled her hands over her ears, squeezing her eyes tightly shut so the sight and sound of the devise did not disorient her as well.

As soon as the sound banged through the air, she pulled her gun back to a ready position. She was just stepping away from the wall and turning to clear the room of the seven disoriented man when she felt the bullet lodge in her neck.

xoxo

Tony heard the sound of her anguished groan and his tense body sprang into action, barreling down the stairs, sweeping a little too carelessly for danger as he made his way through the long hallway. He saw her the minute he hit the ground. She was sprawled across the hardwood in front of a doorway, leg at an odd angle and one of her arms curled under her as if she had simply folded up and fallen without any chance to catch herself.

His brain, on autopilot as he began to sprint towards her, told him that there were very few shots that would cause her to fall without catching herself. Spine, head, none of them ended with anything less than paralysis and most of them ended in death.

As he finally reached her, he swung his weapon in to sweep the room so he wouldn't be shot down as she had been, only to find Gibbs already standing over the unconscious bodies in the sitting area.

"Which one of these guys is him?" Gibbs asked, as Tony bent down to see Ziva with a tranquilizer sticking out of her neck, breathing deeply and steadily.

"Boss?" he asked in confusion.

He heard Gibbs huff in frustration as he hit the microphone button and said, "Bring the car up." Before turning in the general direction of where Tony was kneeling beside Ziva. "The damn flash bang, I still had my night vision goggles on. I can't see a thing."

Tony started patting down Ziva and found the detonator, too bad he had no idea where she had placed the charge. They, apparently, weren't going to need the 'back door' that it would have provided, but he felt the need to collect it before the Rodriguez guys got their hands on it.

"The bomb." Tony said as he finally left Ziva and moved into the room. He pointed out the man they had come for. Gibbs, within inches of Tony, lifted the small-framed man over his shoulder as if he were shucking a sack of potatoes and put his free hand out to grab Tony by the shoulder to be led out as the damage to his eyes continued to get worse instead of better.

He felt Tony stop and stoop, presumably to pick up Ziva and they quickly made their way out of the house. Tony loaded Ziva in the back seat and had McGee pop the trunk for their extra 'cargo' while Gibbs, with extreme effort, lowered himself into the passenger seat.

He swept the perimeter with his eyes, focused for any sign of movement, and as Tony climbed in the backseat next to his unconscious partner, he heard Gibbs up front. "Blow it." He said.

Tony pulled the detonator and the next best thing to removing the explosive happened as a large chunk of wall near the corner of the house went up in in a ball of flames before their eyes sending debris into the yard and scattering it.

McGee gassed it, knowing there would be emergency personnel there any minute, if not for the previous gunfire, than for the explosion that just rocked the entire neighborhood.

Tony watched Tim turn towards Gibbs as if realizing for the first time something was up with their boss, "You alright?" the man asked.

"Shut up and drive, McGee." Gibbs snapped suddenly, "Lab, now. Go."

Tony would have been shocked as the Probie started barreling down streets like an Indy car driver, or Ziva, but he found there was not much that surprised him anymore.

"What's going on?" he asked, the plan did not involve them taking their captive back to the lab, they were supposed to be at the safe house.

"The lab has been compromised." Gibbs held his tone level, but Tony had known him too long not to hear the subtle fear lingering under the anger that boiled at the older man's surface.

Tony had been wrong; there were still things that could surprise him. He suddenly felt the same way he had a moment ago when he saw Ziva crumpled on the hardwood floor.

He took in Tim's expression from the side, jaw set in a hard line, and fingers so tight on the steering wheel they were white from the lack of blood flow.

xoxo

A/N: Ok, so those of you who said don't worry about when I update, once a week is fine you are next up in a fight to the death with those who can't wait for the updates. Good luck to both sides on that one.

I seriously couldn't update once a week if I wanted to. I am an avid fic reader and it is SOOO frustrating to wait a week or weeks or a month for an update. Probably won't ever drop below three a week, though I'm pretty set on sticking to my pattern of five a week.

Thanks for all the reviews on last chapter; I'm sorry I'm so busy I can't respond individually at the moment. Perhaps if my muse gets off my back for a day I'll be able to do that. I was glad to see that you are still with me and enjoying it. Special thanks to Jake Crepeau, for the review that made my day.

OK, off to post now before Midnight and I miss the deadline for getting a Friday post like I promised, even though I think this is pretty much crap. It's the weekend now, so I can put more time and effort into the next chapter since there's no work for two days.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Tony's heart was racing as McGee screeched to a stop in front of the shattered front window of the lab they had called home for the past three weeks. He watched Tim hop out of the car with a wild look in his eyes as he pulled a gun from his holster.

Tony was out of the car nearly as fast, but turned back as he was heading in, catching sight of Ziva and letting his gaze shift to Gibbs.

As if sensing his hesitation Gibbs snapped, "Go, Tony."

Slamming the door and hoping he wasn't leaving Gibbs and Ziva as sitting ducks, he headed towards the building just as he watched McGee slip inside.

Tony entered the main lab area through the shattered glass door to see that McGee had already moved to the door separating the lab from the surveillance room. The wall along either side of the metal separating wall was punctured and pitted with dozens of bullet holes.

He found his eyes scanning the floor around the damage and partially relieved as he saw no signs of blood. Bile burned at the back of his throat as he considered whether the weapons used to cause the chaos that was surrounding them were some of the firearms he and Ziva had let those bastards buy from them.

He swallowed the overwhelming desire to either throw up or pass out as he watched McGee tug at the handle of the metal door. It didn't open as Tim tugged at it several times.

By the time he reached Tim's side, the younger man had apparently regained his composure enough to realize the security lock was engaged. He watched Tim flip back the cover on the keypad and noted the other man's shaking fingers as he tried to enter the code that would disengage the internal locks on the door.

After a moment, Tony realized Tim's hands were shaking so much that he couldn't get the code entered without coding double numbers or the wrong digits.

Tony stilled Tim's fingers with his left hand and shifted into the other man's direct line of sight. "What's the code?" he asked.

McGee didn't seem to hear him and apparently wasn't noticing much of anything either if the way he was blankly staring at the Velcro pocket on the shoulder of Tony's tactical vest.

He moved his hand to Tim's shoulder and gave it a squeeze waiting for the younger man to meet his eyes so that he knew he had broken through and Tim would hear his question.

As much as he thought he wanted to have Tim snap out of his apparent shock and look up, he wasn't prepared for the hollow look in the younger man's eyes when they finally met his. "The code, McGee." Tony stated, hoping the man heard him.

"Four, Two, Eight, Oh, Five." His voice sounded muffled as if from far away and Tony turned to the keypad, not able to look in the other man's eyes a second longer. That lost look didn't belong on the young man's face.

He watched as he reached for the keypad and his own hands shook. His heart racing for the young man who thought he had lost everything just a few short weeks before. The computer geek boy he had watched blossom into a man more over the last couple of months than ever before. The man who had found a second chance of sorts with the woman he loved and Tony was scared.

He was scared to open the door and find nothing. He was scared to open the door and find that those bullets had made it through the wall, or perhaps it was worse if they found nothing at all on the other side.

It seemed as if it took him hours to carefully key in each number, seemed as if another hour passed before they heard the audible click of the locks disengaging.

As soon as the sound pierced the silence that had enveloped them, Tim seemed to snap into action. Gun at the ready, but eyes that Tony wasn't sure he could see through for the brimming tears that hadn't fallen, Tim flung the door open.

Tim could hear nothing aside from the blood pulsing in his ears, his heart pounding painfully in his chest, and a raspy sound that he didn't identify right away as his own heavy breathing.

As he stood there, his mind full of so many visions from his years investigating murder and mayhem, he couldn't seem to get a grip. His hand was shaking so badly that he didn't dare put his finger on the trigger for fear he might actually misfire it.

His eyes locked on a smattering of bullet holes in the wall he couldn't help his train of thought from wondering whether she suffered. Did she go quickly, was it peaceful, was she scared, did they make her suffer first, did they take her and were they still making her suffer somewhere.

The sound of the lock disengaging snapped through everything else in his mind, he pushed forward, headless of danger, finger still not on the trigger of his gun, and hands so unsteady that he wasn't sure he would be able to even keep from dropping the damn weapon, much less be any kind of effective at wielding it.

As soon as the door opened enough that he could see no body, no blood, no obvious signs of a struggle in the surveillance room, he shouted, "Abby!"

In a perpetual state of shock, he heard her voice call out his name and his brain refused to interpret the sound as an actually tangible thing, more so it was like the oasis in the desert, a mirage. A mirage, just like the sight of the door along the far wall of the surveillance room opening up.

A blur of pink, tan, and black flew at him and it wasn't until he had her in his trembling arms that he finally registered she was really there with him. "What. . . How. . ." he couldn't seem to form words as he crushed her to him, for the first time in this mission glad that she was dressed in civilian-type clothing, because as tight as he was pulling her against his chest he was certain to have welts from the dog collars she normally wore.

She pulled away enough to look up into his eyes as he finally let relief wash over him, "Where's Gibbs?" she asked and he didn't seem able to wrap his brain around conversation.

He heard Tony from somewhere behind him, "He's in the car out front. We have to go."

Abby was tugging him along with her to follow Tony out of the lab they would not be able to come back to as she responded, "I need to thank that man for being so unbearably, insufferably, ridiculously overprotective."

A/N: So sorry I'm posting a super short one instead of not posting at all tonight. It was on my list for the day, but then my sister needed a sitter and I had a hard time focusing with seven kids running through the house. I was going to start at eight and was sure I'd have enough time to get a chapter written and up, but when my daughter and I got home her Papi had It's a Wonderful Life on and it was just starting. Shock of all shocks I've never seen it, so I couldn't focus because I was enthralled. It really is a great movie, so that's why people always rave about that!


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Gibbs was lying in the back bedroom on the main floor. Daylight was starting to spill through the windows.

Even though he couldn't see it, aside from noticing the subtle hint of a change in the grey tone he had been seeing for the last couple of hours, he could feel the sun's rays on his face.

He wished he could sleep, perhaps the revitalizing effects of sleep would help repair the damage that he had done to his eyes, but sleep wouldn't come to him. He was running through the events of the day in his mind.

He was trying to figure out where he had screwed up so badly. His choices over the course of this investigation were cycling through his head. He nearly got Abby killed and would have killed Ziva himself if he were using real bullets. Was all of this worth the risk he was asking his people to make?

He knew, logically, what they were doing could prevent another event like what happened at the J Edgar Hoover building, but it still made him sick to think of what almost wen so horribly wrong today.

He could get up, try to be productive, try to organize something, start the interrogations, something, but he didn't feel the urge. He might not be able to see, but he could feel the looks his team was giving him.

He didn't need his team to see him so weak, to look on him with pity. After a few hours of sleep, hopefully, the grey would fade and he would be able to see more than vague splotches of light and dark.

He knew he should be in the hospital, should be with a doctor getting checked out, but he wouldn't risk this mission when his team had risked so much. If they scrapped the operation and his eyesight came back, he wasn't sure he'd be able to look at himself in the mirror.

If they kept pushing forward and he later found out that he had done irreparable damage to his eyes, at least he would be able to live with himself. Giving up now was not an option.

He let his mind wander over all the things that could change if he never saw again, but shook it off, unwilling to focus on himself when so much else was screwed up.

He had promised Abby he would keep her safe and in looking back, they had been able to get in the door with the Rodriguez cartel without needing her there with them. Having her there had been a stupid move on his part. He could put some of it on her, she had begged him to let her go with them, but he knew he was capable of saying no. He knew he had shot down her requests before and while it was never easy to tell Abby 'no', he also knew that she was a kind-hearted person who easily forgave those she held dear.

This was screwed up beyond just Abby, though, Tony would probably never look at him the same way. Probably think the same thoughts that were coursing through his brain right now. If it had been real bullets.

He had to think back, try to focus on the situation. If it had been real bullets would he have reacted the same way to the splotchy vision he had directly after the flash. He really didn't know. That part of all of this was eating at him, as well.

He didn't know if he could trust himself in tactical situations if he let a little disorientation sway his focus and cause the type of slip-ups that happened today.

He let out a frustrated groan and punched at the pillows under him. He rearranged himself in the bed and forced himself to close his eyes.

Willing sleep to take him so that he would at least be free of his own tormenting thoughts, it was an inordinate amount of time before he finally felt exhaustion sweep him away.

xoxo

Her eyes opened slowly and it took her several seconds of blinking for her vision to clear. Taking in her surroundings, Ziva was perplexed by the unfamiliar room as she looked around.

Scanning her surroundings without moving off the bed, she took in her clothing and noted the black shirt and pants. Sudden realization dawned as visions of the raid floated back to her. She instantly reached for the cargo pocket of her pants, but found that the detonator was gone.

Checking herself over for her weapons, she found nothing.

They had her. She had been captured.

Captured. Imprisoned. Trapped.

The words burnt into her brain in a rapid-fire succession that made bile rise in her throat as a flurry of images swarmed her and she felt her tenuous hold on reality slipping out of her grasp.

Had she not been in a post-sedative drug haze she might have noticed her surroundings.

She might have realized that the window was not barred over and she could easily get out. She might have noticed the cache of unconventional weapons at her disposal, the lamp, the chair, and the handles on each dresser drawer. She might have noticed the door was unlocked and if she really listened, she might have heard Abby downstairs raving excitedly about the panic room at the lab.

She was in a haze from the tranquilizer and her first thought, surprisingly, was not escape. Her first thought was not of her friends, her team or even Tony.

She could not see the Florida sun streaming through her window or hear the birds chirping from the tree just outside. She could not feel the warmth and comfort of the bed, the down pillow, the overstuffed comforter.

She saw only darkness. She felt only heat and dirt. She smelled the blood, her blood. It was only his face she saw. It was his face hovering over her, grinning and laughing. It was his face curving with a sick smile, as she felt the sharp pain of his steel-toed boot against her ribs. She saw him throwing his head back on a throaty laugh that she could not hear and some part of her brain was aware she was alone.

She felt something in her rise up as blind terror gripped her like icy fingers of death.

She fought the urge to throw up as she scampered to the corner of her cell and curled into a ball.

Unbidden, tears sprang to her eyes and she willed them away. She could not let them see her as weak. She could not give them the satisfaction of knowing what they had done to her. Or at least the satisfaction of interpreting her current state as a result of their endless methods of trying to break her resolve, break her spirit, make her talk.

She could not help the self-loathing she felt in this moment. They had been unable to break her, their barbaric methods only succeeding in sending her further into herself, locking her feelings away, locking herself away and then this.

A dream that felt so real of a life back with her team, of becoming a citizen and sharing a life with Tony that was more than she had dreamed possible. Her own brain succeeded in breaking her where broken bones and torture had failed.

She fought a fresh wave of nausea and resentment as a tear slipped down her cheek despite her efforts to rein in her errant thoughts. She swiped at the tear angrily, cursing her weakness and praying they stayed away long enough for her to regain herself, to draw back inside herself and lock the emotions down. She wiped at a second tear and then froze as a sudden wave of fear swept through her trembling body.

His soulless eyes would see the mark of her tears. He would see where the motion of ridding her face of the traitorous moisture had cleared the months of accumulated dirt from her cheek. He would deduce accurately what the traces along her cheek were. Weakness. He would see her weakness immediately and push and prod until he figured out how to inspire that reaction in her again and again.

She willed her brain to forget the images it had burned into it from her vivid dream. Forget the imagined feeling of Tony's flesh under her fingers, his hands trailing fire over her skin as his mouth drove her to a level of desire she could never remember having experienced.

To survive this, she would have to forget the feeling of him holding her tight to his chest, skin on skin as they woke in the morning. Forget that tender expression in his eyes as he whispered words from his heart every morning as he opened his eyes to see her lying beside him. 

Fresh tears sprang to her eyes from the memory of a dream and the glimpse of another life that she would never know.

She felt her stomach clench painfully in nervous tension as the distant sound of footsteps approaching her cell echoed through the room. She knew they could not be as loud as her ears interpreted them, but each step sounded like a gunshot or the gavel coming down on her sentence of this life of misery.

Until this point, she had been able to hold it together. She had been able to resist the taunts, the threats, and the violence. However, her visions of all that she was missing back home - Funny to think of home as America - had sent her spiraling down into an abyss of emotion she was neither willing, nor apparently able to handle.

Her eyes caught the glint of metal in the sun and she wondered how she had missed that before. She scooted silently across the floor and pulled the handle free from the cheap wood holding it in place on the white dresser.

Inspecting her weapon as the sound of his feet drew closer; she noted that neither end of the handle was particularly sharp, though they both came down to a rounded point.

With enough force, she could push the rounded edge through the soft flesh of his throat, a temple blow may be sufficient to knock him out or at least disorient him, or she could go for the eyes. If not deadly, any of those should earn her enough time to strip him of his weapon and the chance to pull her damaged body out of here.

She probably did not have a chance at crossing the dessert in her dehydrated and malnourished state, but her dream had given her a glimpse of a future worth living for and she would fight tooth and nail to get there.

As she looked to the light spilling through the gap below the door, she prepared herself for what was coming. Ducking back into a corner, she tried to make herself as small of a target as possible and laid in wait for her chance to strike back and run.

xoxo

Tim was glad for a moment alone with Abby. Gesturing for her to join him on the couch where he slung an arm over her shoulder and hugged her tight to his side. His laptop was on the coffee table and they could observe Eduardo Rodriguez, tied in the basement room they had set him up in.

He heard Tony's footfalls as he reached the stairs and finally alone he turned to Abby, his fiancé, the thought of her under that term never got old in his mind. "You ok?" he asked.

He felt her shrug in his embrace, "Just glad to be here." She responded, but she was too quiet.

"Me, too." He responded softly, amazed that so few words could mean so much to both of them.

With that, they fell into a comfortable silence and he rubbed her back as she finally began to relax into sleep.

They had all been up overnight and he should be sleeping too, but he had to keep an eye on the hostage.

Even if he didn't have a job to do, he was certain that he wouldn't be able to sleep for the utter fascination he was finding in watching Abby drift off to sleep.

Their comfort was suddenly interrupted by an earsplitting scream followed by sounds of a scuffle from upstairs.

xoxo

A/N: OK, sorry guys. I don't like this chapter, but I really really hated it before I deleted half of it and started again. Sorry for the length of delay in getting this up, but I feel a little painted into a corner, knowing where I need to go, but not wanting to rush through the end just to get there. Hope you understand and stick with me through the coming days and chapters, even when I leave you hanging like yesterday. Did I mention I hate how busy the holiday season gets?


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

McGee was on his feet as quickly as he could disentangle with Abby without her ending up on the floor. Grabbing his gun from the end table and starting towards the commotion.

"Stay here." He told her as she looked to be contemplating following him up the stairs. He saw a flash in her eyes as if she was about to follow him anyway when there was a thump followed by a curse down the hall.

The scuffle upstairs must have roused Gibbs and he was running into things in his haste to see what was wrong. Abby turned and abruptly started towards the back of the house towards Gibbs as Tim finished checking his weapon and moved quickly, but quietly, up the stairs.

By the time he was halfway up the stairs, the muffled yelling and other noises had abruptly stopped. Cautiously he checked the first two rooms, but wasn't surprised when they were empty.

Moving to the room Tony had carried Ziva to when they arrived so she could sleep off the tranquilizer, Tim planted himself outside to one side of the open doorway.

He listened for a moment to get a better idea of what might be facing him on the other side. His brain had finally caught up with his instinct and he was wondering how they had been located when they were so careful. He wondered who could have gotten in without them hearing.

Then he heard an empty, hollow sounding moan. It spoke of pain and anguish and reminded him of the sound his friend Jake had made when he fell out of the tree the summer after third grade and broke his leg.

Steeling himself for the damage and danger he might be walking into, Tim swept into the doorway with his gun at the ready only to stop dead in his tracks.

The room was a mess; furniture askew, bedding hanging off the mattress, dresser drawers pulled open, handle missing from one of the drawers with only splintered wood around its previous attachment. Near the window was a body-sized dent in the drywall. After a brief sweep, his eyes fell on Tony and Ziva at the foot of the bed.

She was curled in a tight ball held firmly against Tony's chest. He sat on the floor with Ziva in his lap and rocked gently back and forth whispering into her hair with his head bowed.

"What the hell happened in here?" Tim finally managed, only his tone was a little harsher than he had intended as confusion swept him up in a cascade of emotions.

He watched Ziva stiffen and tense up in Tony's grasp, an observation he was strangely disquieted by after thinking she didn't look like she could get any more tightly wound. His words also had Tony's head snapping up to glare at him.

Tim didn't see the desolation in the older man's eyes at first; he was so taken aback by the jagged gash across the side of Tony's face. Blood was streaking down his face in lazy little trails. The slice looked like it went from his cheekbone clear down to his jaw, but the blood seeping across that side of his face combined with the way he had smeared it, made it difficult to tell the extent of the damage.

Instinctively, he took a step towards them and watched her crumble further in on herself, finally shifting his gaze to Tony's eyes and seeing the emotion dancing dangerously behind his eyes. "Get out." Tony told him on a voice that was low like a growl, making Tim stop in his tracks. No longer moving forward, but dumbstruck and apparently unable to move backwards either.

From the sounds that burst through the calm downstairs, he had fully expected to walk into a retaliatory strike against them from some of Rodriguez's men. Finding his partners in a crumpled heap on the floor was the furthest thing from his mind.

"I said 'Get out'." Tony enunciated forcefully, locking eyes with him. In those depths, McGee saw a darkness he'd never witness in the man before him.

The wrath on display in Tony's normally jovial features had him frozen to the spot wondering just what in the world was going on around him. He felt his mouth open and close several times, but couldn't seem to get any words to come out.

"Get the hell out of here!" Tony shouted and the vigor behind the man's words had Tim taking a couple of halting steps backwards. He watched as Tony straightened his leg and kicked the edge of the door, effectively shutting it in Tim's face with a rush of air and a loud slam.

xoxo

Tony didn't feel the pain from the gash on his face or notice the discomfort of the bruising along his ribs. He didn't feel the swelling in his knee from the old college injury inflamed by the direct kick it took. He didn't feel the soreness and impending stiffness of his back from being throw against the wall, though it was normally the first pain to permeate all else due to its severity and ability to incapacitate him.

He was numb, but for the pain in his heart.

The ache of every breath rattling through him was like wildfire as his throat constricted on the weight of what had just happened. He was still seeing red with fury as he tried to pull her tight in his arms, rocking gently as he'd seen mothers do with small babies. He wasn't sure which one of them he was trying to sooth.

While they had spent the last few weeks being completely honest with each other, they had been respectful of each other in that pursuit of blatant honestly. He had been waiting, willing to wait forever if that's what she wanted, for her to open up to him about Somalia.

It seemed that it was a piece of her she was glad to keep buried, relieved not to bring up, and happy to ignore as if it never happened.

Until today.

Until she slammed him, square between the eyes, with her sudden outburst. Not literally, though he almost laughed when he realized how close to accurate the imagery was to what had happened.

Her boiling rage indicating her time in captivity had been as bad as those nightmares that haunted him for months after she came home.

Hearing that bastard's name on her lips had nearly brought him to his knee in context. It was the tone of her voice that struck him. It was laced with fear that wavered her normally strong tone.

He had come into the room to check on her, only to find her curled in the corner. Placing a hand on her shoulder at that moment, in hindsight, was probably not the best idea.

She had come up swinging. Screaming at him like he was the bastard who tortured her in Somalia.

He felt her body start to relax into him as the trembling finally subsided.

He had no idea how long they sat there, though he could feel her hair against his skin. Normally soft, it was now caked with dried blood. His blood, though that thought didn't seem to register as much as it probably should have.

He had no idea what he whispered to her as he rocked them gently, but he hoped he hadn't said anything that made this all worse. He fell silent for a long moment, his mind spinning with snapshot images from the few words she had spoken.

Hoping she had come back to herself a little bit he tried to rouse her, "Ziva."

When her face finally turned up to him, he saw the confusion, though it was overshadowed by the hope in her eyes. All of which was overshadowed by the angry red streaks of blood marring her olive skinned face.

Groaning at the pain his body had finally started registering, he stood, but held her firmly in his grasp as he made his way out to the hall and two doors down to the bathroom. She rested her head on his shoulder, as he carried her, apparently finally content that this was real.

It had been heartbreaking to hear her tell him that he wasn't real. Hear her accuse him of being a figment of her imagination or just some other bastard sent in to torture her when Saleem had failed to break her.

He set her on the edge of the sink and held her for a long moment before helping her to her unsteady feet and reaching for a towel. As he busied himself wetting the towel to help wipe the blood from her face he noticed her staring at her reflection in the mirror with an odd puzzled look as if she was still not fully convinced that this was her or that any of this was real.

She reached a hand up and touched the smear of blood on her forehead, but the confusion deepened and she examined another smear across her cheek that extended from her temple to her chin and disappeared into her hair, caking her ear as it dried a deep reddish brown.

"It doesn't hurt." She commented in a quiet voice as if afraid that the pain would suddenly re-emerge, or more so that this was part of the dream and she would wake up back in that camp.

"It's not yours." He responded, noticing that emotion had further constricted his throat and his voice was low and husky. He turned her face towards him with the cloth in hand; ready to clean his blood from her skin. When her eyes finally moved off her slightly dazed expression in the mirror and fell on Tony's face she gasped and snatched the towel out of his hand.

"Oh my god, Tony." She started, gently whipping at the drying blood, eyes focused on his cheek and avoiding his gaze for a moment. "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize."

He could see the shame cross over her features just before she brought her sad eyes up to meet his understanding green ones. "Its fine, Ziva."

"This is going to scar." She responded, apparently not willing to address the actual issue of her mental breakdown and physical attack on him, instead dealing directly with the ramification.

Tony shrugged, "Chicks dig scars." He responded lightly, hoping to keep her moving in the right direction and deflect a little of the tension brewing in the room.

"Oh really?" she asked teasingly as she dabbed at blood along his jaw, but the weak smile fell off her face after only a moment. "You need stitches."

"I'm sure there's a first aid kit around here somewhere, let's just get cleaned up a little first."

Ziva shook her head at him, but from the tears welling behind her eyes, he was certain it was not to decline his offer of getting this blood off them. "I want to go home, Tony."

The sadness in her voice broke his heart, "I wish I could take you. We have to finish this, Ziva, for all the people who died in that building and all the ones who could still be in danger."

After a moment, he watched her expression suddenly harden. He wondered if this was her breaking point, if this was where she'd draw the line between honor and sanity, if this was where she would decide there was no balance in her current life between work and actually living.

She gazed at him a moment, quelling everything that she felt and hardening her soul and her features, "Did we get him?"

The question confused him at first before he remembered the mission they undertook last night. Just a few hours and it seems so very long ago, "He's in the basement."

She turned and strode out of the bathroom. As he followed her, he briefly noted that he didn't have a chance to finish washing the blood off his face and they hadn't even started on her.

He was certain it was as bad as he thought it looked in the bathroom mirror, when they hit the main floor and Abby gasped in horror. She was sitting with Gibbs at the dining table and the sound traveled through the connected living room, and drew McGee's attention from the couch.

"Go relieve Tim." Ziva said, her voice calm with a stone-like hardness echoing in every word and cutting through the tense silence that their appearance had brought with them downstairs.

Tony was too shocked to respond as she turned and headed toward the basement stairs, her stride a little more uneasy than usual.

"McGee," Tony's authoritative voice was back, even if he didn't really feel it, "Basement. Go stand outside the interrogation room, just in case."

After staring at him blankly for a moment, Tim stood and followed the path Ziva had taken to the basement.

Tony was left hoping that he was making the right decision in letting Ziva go down there in her current state. His head said she was the best at this, but his heart said he should still be holding her to sooth all the worries and sorrows.

xoxo

A/N: I'm straying from the case again, hope you will forgive me, but this got longer than I thought, so I'm saving the Interrogation for next chapter. Then action picks up again as our ex-Mossad officer pushes the case forward so they can be done and she can go home. Poor girl, I put her through a lot. She needs a vacation.

In addition, on the facts presented here and the prior chapter, apparently tranquilizers can have multiple neurological side effects, among them hallucinations. I'm only telling you so you don't get mad that she freaked out on Tony, she was hallucinating and it wasn't her fault. Tony doesn't hold it against her, so you shouldn't either, ok?


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Warning: This chapter has taken some dark turns and anyone squeamish should just assume Ziva is a good interrogator and wait for the next chapter, which should be posted some time tomorrow.

xoxo

Ziva felt her legs steadying as she reached the bottom of the stairs. Moving down the short hall, with determination, her mind was still reeling with what she had done.

Emotions fresh on the surface and the unsettling knowledge that she had lost herself so completely for that moment put the weight of the world on her shoulders. She was a little concerned about what she might do in this room if she did not rein in her mindset.

Settling on a game plan that was either the epitome of strength or a depressing level of weakness, she finally opened the door and moved into the interrogation room.

Ziva knew that Tony was upstairs watching this play out on video, Tim had followed her down the stairs, and it would not take long for Abby and Gibbs to be listening along. She knew they had all been curious, except for Gibbs who she knew had read the report.

There had been a lot left out of the official report, but with a ragged sigh, she turned and locked the door behind her. She knew if it was not locked, Tony might burst in before she was done getting what she needed from the man who sat tied to a chair in the middle of the room.

She knew it was weakness to do this as she was planning, but she could not avoid the situation any more. She did not want to avoid it any more. More than not wanting to keep everything bottled up, she did not want to see Tony's face as she moved through her plan. She did not want to see the shame and pity he would look on her with.

At least this way she would not have to see it until she was done and that made her feel more confident.

"Do you know who I am?" she asked.

"Some crazy bitch my stupid brother got us mixed up with." He responded bitterly, practically throwing the phrase 'crazy bitch' at her. From his position, strapped in a chair, he had no ammo but for his words.

She merely laughed at his outburst. "Do you know why someone wants my husband and I to think that you're setting us up?" she asked casually, running her fingers over the handles of the knives and other menacing looking tools, carefully displayed on a table near the cartel leader's seat. She knew that most of this had been purchased in the kitchenware department at the store, but it gave the impression of being dangerous and capable of inflicting great pain.

He simply shook his head, "No one set you up."

"Really?" she was surprised by how calm and level her tone was as emotion bubbled through her. She felt herself drawing strength from the knowledge that this would cleanse her spirit as well as, hopefully, bring them closer, "I thought when the FBI showed up to bust us that would be obvious."

"We barely know you." He responded, she could tell he was starting to panic now.

"You know who I am talking about." She said, lifting a knife and giving it a playful twirl, "You are playing dumb, yes?" He ignored her and she tisked at him, "It is not a smart move."

"Lady, I'm not playing dumb. You're talking crazy and it's not your accent that's causing the confusion." He joked bitterly.

"Oh, a funny man." She smiled at him, batting her eyelashes, "You would prefer I just get to the point?" she asked, tapping her finger against the point of the knife as if to demonstrate the double meaning of the word.

She watched his eyes widen a fraction as they focused on the blade and she resumed twirling it.

"I am talking about your 'partnership' with a group of terrorists."

Rodriguez shook his head, "I don't know nothing."

She laughed, "English is far from my native language and I still know that phrase is wrong. You either do not know anything or you know nothing, so by stating it that way you are confirming that you know something by saying you do not know nothing."

"Isn't there a man out there I could talk to? You women play games and talk in circle." His fierce attitude was back.

"Tutt, tutt, tutt. Insulting my gender will not gain you any favor here."

"Look, lady, why don't you just kill me if you're going to. I'm not telling you anything."

Ziva shrugged and began twirling the knife in her hand again, "That would not be nearly as much fun as what I have planned."

She let him sit in silence again and stew on that for a while. After a long silence, "So, what? You're going to torture me?"

She let the question weigh in a heavy silence and then simple laughed as she began pacing slowly, movements steady and measured, "Not just yet. I am going to tell you a story about these men that you insist on protecting and then you're going to make a choice."

She considered his expression, blank, but he was having trouble holding the expression as his eyes occasionally flickered to the weapons on display or her twirling of the knife. "There are only a couple of people who would go to this much trouble to get at my husband and me. There is only one group with enough arrogance and nerve to risk incurring the wrath of a legitimately powerful gang just for revenge." She let that soak in, "We knew we should not have taken the tip to come down here, but we thought 'sun, sand, it will be like a vacation'." She let out a strained bark of laughter.

She knew this was her last chance to back out, once she got started, she probably would not be able to stop. Thinking about it, she could not stop then if she had wanted to, "They were not pleased to find out that while we were selling them weapons and heavy explosives, we were also supplying the same to their rivals and enemies. It is business, no?"

He did not respond so she continued, "They did not appreciate the action, though were they in our trade they would have done the same things. They arranged a buy and set us up. I lost half a dozen good men, and was captured with three others."

She knew that upstairs and outside the door, everyone knew exactly where she was going with this, but she had not heard the door being pounded down and so she pushed on, feeling in a haze as she recounted that summer.

"I spent the first night and the following day and night in solitary in a six foot square room with a tiny barred window. The walls were cement block, the floors cold concrete. There was a thick layer of dirt covering the floor, no furniture, anywhere but the floor to sleep, no trips to a 'bathroom."

The man stared at her, she could tell he had no idea what she was doing and she briefly wondered if she even knew, "The night was bone chilling, there was no sleep against cool concrete when the desert night plummeted so low. The days were not any better as the sun beat down and I felt as if I was cooking in the tiny room."

Twirling the knife gave her something to focus on, allowed her to step outside herself and relay what she had kept buried for so long, "They came for me after that first thirty six hours and moved me to a larger room. That is when I met him. I named him 'weasel', that is what he reminded me of. For a small man, he was surprisingly powerful, though some of that may have been malnourishment after a while."

She continued to pace slowly, focused trained so intensely she was certain there was no other way to get through this. "It started with slapping that turned to punches that lead to kicking with heavy steel toed boots. They even tried to appeal to my compassion by using some of my men against me."

She watched his expression; he appeared to be struggling with listening to her and his eyes seemed to be searching for an escape, though it was futile.

"They brought in my youngest man, he was seventeen and it had been his first mission. Unfortunately, for him, he had no knowledge of the operation, only my husband and I have that type of information. They cut him, burned him, beat him. I will never forget the sound of his voice screaming and begging me to tell them what they wanted so they would stop this. Eventually they did stop it, with a bullet through his head and they started again on the next of my men. All three died slow and painful deaths."

She thought there might be compassion in the man's eyes, but she brushed it off, she could not handle any emotion right now as she tramped her thoughts and feelings down deeper and continued.

"It took them eight days to go through all three men and then I spent another two days in solitary confinement. They fed me just enough to keep me alive until they got what they were after, but I would not budge, no matter how hard they kicked, how many times they slapped me, who they cut in front of me. I would not tell them something that would put my husband and the rest of my friends in danger. There was far more at stake than the four lives they had in their custody."

Ziva felt her pace pick up as she recalled what happened next and she felt herself fighting to keep the control she had built up. "Perhaps they are not used to women who do not stink of dirt or smell like camels, because it took them nearly two weeks before they touched me sexually." She tried to start with a joke, maybe lighten things as Tony did at times, but it fell flat even to her own ears.

"I was actually surprised it had taken them so long as most women would give anything to avoid that particular trauma." She watched the man's eyes, as he seemed to be warring with disgust and disbelief.

"You see, I was not raised to take much stock in that particular part of my anatomy." She tried to explain, though her stomach knotted painfully, "I was raised to be an assassin, bred and groomed to fight for a cause, to hide in plain sight and get information from or access to my targets by any means necessary."

She felt sick as she thought of her friends, her family hearing this about her, but the hyper-calm state she had built herself up to was allowing words to move freely from her and she had to admit, it was cleansing to get it out in the open.

"The first time, I was sixteen. He was a forty-eight year old warlord who was very good at staying protected, always surrounded by several bodyguards. His death was necessary and fortunately, for our mission he had a penchant for young girls. I was not strong enough to kill him before he started, but I slit his throat before he was finished and didn't even mind that his blood poured over me as I lay under him." Her tone was distant, removed, and unemotional, the same tone she used when presenting dry financial facts about a victim during an investigation, but it killed her on the inside.

She wanted nothing more in this moment than to have had Tony tell her 'ok' upstairs and taken her home where she did not have to relive all this darkness again and with an audience of all the people she had so carefully kept out of the darker aspects of her life.

"It was not as hard to do after that first time." She admitted, probably sounding casual to the cartel leader, but feeling little more than lost. "So when my captors thought it may be an effective method of getting me to talk, I simply did what I had been trained to do, whatever was necessary to prevent my Intel from getting into the wrong hands."

She shrugged, "They seemed to tire of that after two days when it did not break me. In a sick way, it actually raised my spirits and focused my resolve. Do not misunderstand me, I do not like to think of the time spent with those men, cannot think of that time without the urge to strangle or stab." To punctuate the last word she embedded the knife she had been lazily spinning in her hand deep into the table, rattling the other knives and instruments carefully arranged there.

"'The weasel' was particularly sadistic." Despite her resolve and stone façade, she could not stop the involuntary shiver that ran through her body.

"Regardless of how much that violation had pushed me to the point where I would have been glad to feel the bite of a knife on my throat and die right there, some part of me felt a surge of power over them. They had soiled themselves in their haste to break me and were I to die they would know, for the rest of their lives that they were unclean, because to them I was unclean. To them, I was 'filth', religiously speaking. One cannot cleanse their soul, Mr. Rodriguez, and I would be the filth on their soul for eternity because of what they had done to me."

The man started to speak and Ziva shot him a glare, "You do not get to speak, yet. You will listen to what those you are harboring have done and will continue to do. What they will do to you and your wife and that pretty little daughter you have if you do not eradicate them from the face of the Earth."

Satisfied that he was through trying to interrupt her, Ziva gave a shrug of her shoulder that probably looked about as casual as it felt. She continued, "They were not pleased with my lack of a response to the beatings or the other thing," she felt herself stumble over the word, not willing to give it the name for what it was and she closed her eyes a moment and pushed forward.

xoxo

Tony wanted to go to her; he wanted to pull her out of there, to make her stop talking. As much as he had hoped that someday she would talk about her thoughts and feelings surrounding her summer in hell, so that she didn't have to carry the burden alone, he had never wanted this level of clinically detached detail.

He bolted from the room, not sure where he was going until he was outside the door downstairs, taking in the stricken expression on Tim's face. He gestured for McGee to get lost. He saw the shock at what Ziva had said in the younger man's eyes, but it was the pity that made him glad he had stormed down here. That was the last thing Ziva needed to see when she finally came out of that room.

He stood at the door, one hand resting flat against it as if he could give her strength through the separating door.

He only half listened as Ziva described the terrorists becoming more insistent, cutting her feet so walking would be painful, gashing her sides and hanging her by her arms in the middle of the room to use as a punching bag. Allowing the wounds to heal slightly, so when they hung her from the roof again the gashes would tear fresh.

Oh, God. He thought as she began to describe the sadistic weasel, Saleem, he knew, and his favorite branding iron. It was the first sign of light in this darkness. He had kissed every inch of her and while she had hundreds of tiny scars all over her body, there was nothing like the quarter sized flaming hot brand she spoke of.

He heard the emotion as it thickened her voice, "I lived, I didn't talk, and I gave them nothing. Months of torture and finally my husband came for me." He heard her voice crack slightly over the term 'my husband', but regained herself quickly. "He found those responsible and came to avenge my death, only to find me still breathing. He did not leave a man alive in that camp."

He hoped this meant she was nearly done. "I knew I could pursue the men who orchestrated it, but that kind of darkness eats at you. No matter how focused you are on staying within yourself and not letting anything soak in."

He heard her lost tone come back and it was like being back in that filthy room again, tied to a chair across from her, "I could tell they were getting frustrated and had hoped they would just get it over with and kill me. I had given up counting the days and weeks before I was saved. I knew they would put me out of my misery as soon as I told them what they wanted to know, but I could not selfishly relinquish the whereabouts of my husband, my team, our supplied or our prior business dealings."

She asked, "How long do you believe you will last?" and Tony knew the man must be wondering if she means at her hands or the terrorists. "Is there anyone who will come to avenge you or will they be in time to save you? Perhaps you will just save yourself before we even get started?"

Tony was not surprised when the man crumbled to Ziva's questions.

Tony was not surprised by Ziva's stone voice as she pulled the information out of Rodriguez.

Tony was not surprised by the trembling that shook his hands as he heard her approach the door.

Tony was not surprised by the way his heart pounded in his chest, as the door unlocked or how his breath hitched as the handled turned.

Tony was not surprised to see the exhaustion weighing her features or the sadness in her eyes when she finally closed the door and turned to face him.

What surprised Tony was the tiny, tentative smile Ziva looked to him with and the sudden surge of emotion that swamped him. One little twitch of her lips and he felt the urge to protect her and keep her safe from harm, the desire to provide happiness to her life that she had never known, and a sense of pride in her that was so strong he swayed under the weight of it.

When he looked at her in that moment, he saw only strength.

When Ziva looked at Tony, apprehensive as soon as she realized he was waiting for her outside instead of Tim, she did not see pity, she did not see shame or anger or disgust. She saw his love for her shining through and finally she let herself fall to pieces in his arms.

He picked her up and carried her upstairs, passed through the living area avoiding eye contact so he did not have to see the pity or anguish or disgust. They did not know her as he did and perhaps they were not as accepting.

He settled her in bed and wasn't sure if he should join her after all she had said, but she didn't leave him a choice as she tugged on his hand. He settled in next to her and pulled her into his arms.

He let himself fall apart with her.

When they had finished comforting each other they spent a long moment staring into each other's eyes, enough words had been spoken for a lifetime, but there was one thing he needed to say. "I love you."

She fell apart in his arms again, but this felt different, less desperate and when she met his eyes, she had a genuine smile on her face though tears continued to fall. She did not return the sentiment with words, she didn't appear able to speak, but she did return it with her expression and she pressed a gentle kiss to his lips before settling in and letting her exhaustion take her.

xoxo

A/N: Sorry, I didn't imagine this going anywhere like this, but it's where the muse took us. I let this chapter run into the next so it's almost two chapters in one because I missed the Friday post I was going to put up, so this is Friday and Saturday and hopefully, I will have another up Sunday.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Tony absently ran a finger over the jagged line of smooth flesh down the left side of his face as he stood in the bathroom. Ziva started putting away the supplies she had used to cut the stitches out. She had been the one putting them in eight days prior and he quirked a smile at the memory of getting her to laugh for the first time while she'd stitched him up. It had been just what they needed to break the tension of that day.

He knew how much it had taken out of her to go through all of that and even if she was still feeling the after effects of the tranquilizers and even if, as she had explained, most of it was done in a haze of half consciousness, she had taken a huge step.

Lying in bed next to her afterwards, he had watched her sleep for several minutes, twenty, thirty, he would never know. It wasn't until he finally relaxed enough for the numbness to leave his body and mind that he finally noticed the blood soaking through the pillow as he lay next to her.

He tried to extricate himself from her without waking her, but he was not successful and he smiled as he recalled the shift in her disposition that those few minutes of rest had caused.

Gone was the wildly vulnerable, supremely exhausted and overly taxed woman who he had comforted into sleep and in her place was a stern, mother hen type who snipped at him for lying around bleeding all over the place.

"You should have let me stitch this earlier." She told him firmly as they made their way downstairs in search of a first aid kit.

She seemed to ignore everyone else in the house as she set about single mindedly determined to see him healed.

Once she had finished stitching him up, they had finally joined the others. To his surprise, it was not nearly as awkward as he would have expected after the revelations and confessions in the basement interrogation room.

Thinking back on it, he could feel the tension in the room, but it was obviously stemming from concern for Ziva and there was no recrimination or judgment. There was no pity or even a single mention of what had transpired.

Were it not for the fact that Tony had watched most of what proceeded with Abby and Gibbs next to him, or that he saw Tim's expression in the basement when he'd sent him away, then he would have thought that none of them had seen or heard any of it.

He was surprised how easily everything fell into place from there.

It seemed that everyone was focused with a new intensity towards ending this mission.

Gibbs had regained most of his eyesight within forty-eight hours, though most of the groundwork had been laid by then.

In order for Rodriguez to go along with their plan, they had to convince him that it was in his best interest to do so. Ziva had laid that thought firmly across his mind with her recounting of another mission, another terrorist cell.

The next step had been to convince the man that they were serious, they meant business, and they were a force to be feared even more than unstable terrorists who were hell bent on destruction.

Pulling him from the car and removing his blindfold in the outskirts of Miami on a large plot of land had the man initially begging for his life as if they had brought him to this remote location to kill him and dispose of his body.

Ziva had built a rapport with the man and she showed him around 'their land'.

When the man rounded an old worn down barn to find nearly two dozen men scattered across the backfield doing various military-style training exercises, his confusion was clearly written on his face.

"These are our men in Florida." Ziva had explained before listing off half a dozen other countries where their presence was even more pronounced. "If you were thinking that you could take us out with your rag tag group of petty criminals and those children you give guns to, I wanted to assure you that you were mistaken. We will let you live. We will let your family live, however you have no choice but the work with us."

After showing him their manpower and firepower, he was like putty in their hands. If he wasn't interested in doing what they asked for the sake of himself and his family because of what Ziva had told him, then perhaps their not so lightly veiled threats would keep him in line.

Trusting a criminal of his level was something that made Tony uncomfortable and he was sure that he wasn't the only one. Unfortunately, Rodriguez was all they had to go on.

They had dropped Eduardo Rodriguez near the bar his brother frequented and it was back to the safe house with their only contact from then until today having been via the telephone. Today he and Ziva would be meeting with Rodriguez again and hopefully, they would be putting an end to this operation soon.

He was still absently running a finger over his scar, worry from the last few days and what was to come obviously on his face. He saw the shift in Ziva as soon as she took in his expression and he realized when her eyes dropped in shame that she was misinterpreting his thoughts.

"I am sorry that I scarred you." She said, moving to him and replacing his fingers with her own, softly running over the still tender flesh there. "I know a good plastic surgeon." She added quietly, leaning in to gently kiss his scar.

He just shrugged, "I wasn't thinking about the scar. I really don't mind."

She gave him that look where he was certain she didn't believe a word coming out of his mouth. It took him a moment for what she had said to sink in.

"You know a plastic surgeon?" he felt her stiffen slightly as she burrowed into his chest for a moment. "Ziva?" he asked her gently.

She cleared her throat as she pulled away but when her mouth opened, she didn't seem able to speak. Instead, she lifted her shirt exposing the expanse of her stomach.

"Not that I mind, but it's a busy day. Are you sure we have time?" he joked, with a suggestive smirk, hoping to ease the tension he saw in her face.

They had avoided talking about anything related to what she had confessed during the basement interrogation. If he were honest with himself, today would not be the day that they should start talking about it again.

"These ones." She said tentatively, pointing to several faded scars along her stomach. "These were his brands."

"Ziva," he said, feeling the anguish in his voice, "I was hoping that was an exaggeration to sell the story."

She simply shook her head, but her face didn't relay the same level of misery it had the last time she had discussed this, "I did not exaggerate any of that. I left a few things out, but that will be for another day." She said solemnly as she let her shirt fall back down.

Tony didn't want to hear this, didn't want to believe that the little silver lining he had found from the flaws in her story was a figment of his imagination. He didn't want to believe that what she had experienced was just as horrible as she had described it.

They didn't speak for a long moment, but he reached out a hand to the hem of her shirt as he slowly slipped to his knees in front of her and lifted it slightly for access.

Though he had kissed and caressed every inch of her skin, it had been done out of passion and a desire to intimately know every dip and curve of her body. This time as he slowly and tenderly kissed across each scar on the exposed skin of her abdomen, it was not out of passion, but with a hope of healing wounds that had been masked by the steady hands of a good surgeon.

As he continued his way gently across and up her body, he felt the hem of her shirt pulled from his hand and he was momentarily stilled by the thought that she was pulling away from him. The moment passed when he realized she had whipped her shirt off over her head, silently encouraging his exploration up her body.

He kissed and licked her delicate skin. Every scar he crossed paths with fell victim to his loving touch and he could feel her tremble slightly. He was hopeful it was desire and not recollection that was coursing through her and causing the tiny tremors.

When he diverted from a small scar along the underside of her left breast to gently take her nipple into his mouth, he felt her buck slightly from the sudden change in sensation. He had a split second to wonder if he had made the wrong move before his brain registered the sound of his name released from her on a low moan.

He finally allowed his eyes to meet hers and she graced him with a sweet smile, but it was her smoky eyes that did the talking as she pulled away and ducked past him.

She reached in and turned on the shower before turning back to him and slowly slipping out of her pants, leaving herself fully exposed to him.

He couldn't stop his teasing smile if he had wanted to, "Ziva, you're killing me here." Came out of his mouth in a low growl.

She tilted her head and considered him for a moment, "If you do not get out of those clothes and get over here in the next two seconds I just might."

It took him a little longer than two seconds, but it wasn't much more than that before he had her back plastered against the cool tiles of the shower wall as water peppered them and splashed loudly into the base of the tub.

The spray of the shower was a good mask for most of the noise they generally made, but he had to cover her mouth with his own in the end, muffling her screams of pleasure with a heated kiss.

They stayed joined, neither willing to move, possibly neither able to as their breathing settled. Foreheads pressed together, they stared into each other's eyes with matching contented smiles on their faces until the water started to cool.

It was going to be a tough day, but Tony knew that this day they had started on a path to deeper understanding. A path that he would have been scared to venture down just a few weeks ago, but that right now, he saw as the blessing that it actually was.

She trusted him, body, heart, soul and he wasn't going to let her down.

A/N: AARRGH! Most troublesome chapter ever!

I started and deleted the beginning of this chapter eight times! What the heck, muse? You can't feed me 200,000 words in 4 months and then crap out on me! She seems to be back and we're moving forward again, though I think this is the worst chapter ever. I had to do a time jump and bring us forward 8 days because I got so freaking stuck that if I didn't do something drastic we'd never progress.

I hope that it still makes sense in terms of the case and the character, though at this point and after sooooo much trouble, I'm just glad to be moving forward again and could care less if the case or characters appreciate where I'm taking them.

This chapter has been a pain and I feel awful that it took me nearly a week to give you this garbage, but hopefully as we get to the parts I actually have semi-planned out things will start looking up again.


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Gibbs cursed a colorful string of language, half of which he had only ever used while in combat or marriage.

This had not been part of the plan for their mission today.

Watching as Tony and Ziva climbed into the back of a van with Eduardo Rodriguez and two other men. They were supposed to be meeting Rodriguez's contact for the terrorist cell at the cartel leader's house, not going anywhere.

"McGee, Abby, don't you lose them." Gibbs said, certain his displeasure was clear in his voice.

Abby's voice came through with an edge that probably rivaled his own. "If they get out of the residential area to somewhere we can track them, then yeah, we won't lose them."

"I'll follow at a distance and report back on the streets as we go." He responded as he pulled out a block behind the van. "Let me know when you've got a visual and I'll drop back."

McGee's tone was far more controlled when he responded, "We'll track ahead in several directions, too, so you know when to close back in for visual tracking."

They followed or tracked the vehicle through traffic cameras for twenty minutes through light and heavy traffic until the van reached a small airstrip on the outskirts just west of Miami.

Gibbs watched from a long distance through binoculars as four of the five climbed out of the van before it sped off, leaving them standing there in front of a small hangar.

Watching with a knot in his gut, certain he should call in reinforcements and put an end to this here and now, he saw Omar Haulia exit the hangar. The suspected terrorist they had been searching for was flanked by two other olive skinned men. Gibbs didn't recognize the other men, but he was familiar with the submachine guns each man carried.

After a thorough pat down and another man approaching Tony and Ziva with some kind of wand, presumably to check for listening or tracking devices, the men led his agents inside.

"They've been scanned, if they move I want those tracking devices on." Gibbs relayed to the rest of his team back at the safe house.

"They're ready to rock, just give me the word and we'll light them up." Abby replied. She sounded cocky, but there was no reason she shouldn't. Having the devices in place, but not activated had been her idea. By leaving the tiny bugs in the agent's shoes off through the preamble, they had managed to avoid detection.

They would not be swept again now that they had been checked. If they had gone with the original plan of assuming they might get a pat down, but that a sweep for bugs would be overkill and just leaving them active, the mission would be over now.

There was no movement at the hangar once the agents were moved inside and Gibbs was starting to get antsy.

He did not like surprises, especially on a mission of this magnitude.

What he saw next made his language earlier sound like a nursery rhyme in comparison to what profanities spilled from his mouth.

xoxo

Ziva was feeling what it must be like to be Gibbs as she walked beside Tony into the small airplane hangar. There was a light aircraft, a Cessna 340, taking up most of the space inside the small hangar. She felt her gut clench and had a vague surreal moment to wonder if this was how Gibbs and his gut spoke of trouble to come, and if he was feeling it too.

As if on cue with her thoughts, as they entered the building, the plane's engines fired to life.

The sudden noise startled her and she reached for the gun she no longer had after being frisked on entry. Tony laughed as he slung an arm over her shoulder. To an outside observer it would look like a casual move and the chiding he threw out about it just being a plane would also, but she could feel the way his fingers dug in just a little too tightly to her shoulder as they walked.

They were instructed to enter the light aircraft, she felt Tony's arm fall off her shoulder as he took her hand. For all intents and purposes, it looked innocent enough, but the rhythmic tightening of his digits let her know he was as uncomfortable with this as she was.

Her brain did the manual calculation. Gibbs was certain to be a short ways off from their location, staying out of sight to protect their cover. By the time he realized they had been loaded on a plane and it was moving out of the hangar, it would be too late. On a plane this small, it would be less than a minute before they were airborne.

He would never stop the plane in time.

Calculations continued running through her mind. This series of planes had an average cruising speed of about two hundred and eighty miles an hour. With a full tank and the full five passengers, most of which were reasonably large men, they could be airborne for near six hours or approximately sixteen hundred miles.

If they headed south, it would probably be towards Cuba considering their company. However, she would prefer the longer flight to South America. Columbia would be preferable to Cuba as the travel for Gibbs and the team would be easier to a country that didn't have such strong embargos.

If they headed North, they could end up in Canada, though that was an unlikely prospect. West, over the gulf, they could easily make it to Mexico. Not ideal, but also better than Cuba as they could find transport back to the US through motor vehicle and not have to worry about supplies on a boat across the ocean.

As the plane rumbled through take off, she grasped Tony's hand across the tiny aisle, and calmed herself by making a mental inventory of supplies they would need when they stole a boat for their trip home. She had felt the turn and now they were heading South, probably the worst possible scenario, because they would be on their own if something went wrong.

Her supplies list grew larger as she contemplated everything they may need and she found herself amused as she threw in a few things that were ridiculous, because it was only about two hundred miles from Cuba back to the United States.

Depending on the size of boat they could steal, they would make it back to the US in six to twelve hours barring complications. If they were being pursued or their arrival in Florida would be anticipated, they may be required to detour to another state on the Gulf coast, hitting Louisiana or possibly as far away as Texas.

That trip would take them as much as two days, so she began planning for two days. In her head, she began plotting a vacation away from this mission more than the simple survival of fleeing with nothing but the clothes they had on, which was probably how it would play out in actuality.

Still her list grew of things she would want to have on a boat alone with Tony for two days and she felt it having the desired effect of calming her and focusing her attention.

It was several minutes later, her mind wandering over things she may or may not need when a sudden thought struck her. She tried to think her way out of the realization, tried to reason with her calculations, tried to interpret the facts in any way but how they were presenting in her mind just then, but she couldn't.

She felt a sudden and violent chill down her spine as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over her at the realization. Now, more than ever, she wanted to be anywhere but on this plane.

xoxo

Tony's heart was racing as they sat in the small twin-engine plane and roared towards the south. He tried to stay calm, not jump to the negative right away. They were probably just going to meet with the others in the terrorist cell or the drug cartel leaders outside the US. This didn't have to end badly.

Rodriguez was sure to still be on their side, from the threats on the safety of his family that they had implied. He sat just in front of Tony with the man who had frisked them. The olive skinned stranger spoke in hushed tones in a language Tony didn't recognize, but wouldn't have been able to interpret over the noise in the cabin if he had.

He and Ziva were in the back two seats of the four in the rear, the cockpit held the pilot and the suspected terrorist who seemed to be the leader, at least back at the hangar for the small group there.

He had to focus on his breathing, because the further they flew from back up, the more nervous he got about this whole ordeal. It didn't help that Ziva suddenly began to grip his hand with a force that was causing sharp pain in the joints there. When he looked to her face to gauge what was going on, he was surprised by the panicked expression he had never seen.

She was staring straight ahead, obviously thinking very hard about something as if to convince herself that things weren't as bad as they seemed. Much the same way he had been doing just a moment before. Perhaps he was reading the situation wrong, maybe it was nothing, but he didn't think so.

Despite the pain lancing up his arm he managed to squeeze her fingers back reassuringly, but that just resulted in her turning the full, terrified expression his way.

He was unprepared for the force of it.

Trying to make light of it, knowing they had an audience and couldn't speak freely in the small space, he smiled at her and said, "These small planes are just as safe as the big ones."

She nodded at him as if finally coming back to the situation at hand and slowly her grip on him relaxed.

The expression left her face, but he could tell from looking into her eyes that she was still troubled by something. She seemed to realize that her momentary lapse in calm could have blown their cover and she masked over everything, putting on a fake smile, "Thank you, motek. You always know how to get me through my irrational fears."

He returned the smile with a practiced ease for faking it, "You know me. Anything to make you smile, baby." The term of endearment rolled off his tongue as easily as hers had, but he saw her flinch and he couldn't help wondering what the hell was going on with her. She was going to blow this whole thing in midair and get them both killed.

She was silent for a long time, but when she finally spoke, her words were soft and full of thinly veiled emotion, "I don't want to be Sophie."

"It's a good thing you're not, then, huh?" he responded immediately, before even allowing it to process that somehow she had lost her cover identity and was regressing to their first undercover operation as Jean-Paul and Sophie, international assassins.

The pained look in her eyes told him that he was missing something. She was obviously trying to tell him something in code, so he started to play through the events of that experience.

Did she mean she was worried this operation would end as that one had, or was she anxious because they didn't have back up, without which that operation would have ended in their deaths?

He ran through scenarios from that experience in his head, got stuck for a moment thinking how that was the first time he had felt exactly how intense their passion could be. Nothing seemed to click.

He started running case facts in rapid succession through his head and then flashed on Ziva walking out of the bathroom while he was talking to the fed dressed as the maid. Her words in that moment came back to him.

He felt like he had just taken a blow from a sledgehammer in his solar plexus. His stomach knotted furiously and he couldn't seem to take in a full breath.

She couldn't be telling him what she was telling him. It couldn't be. Not now. Not here. Not while they were possibly being led into danger. Not while they may have been flying towards a slaughter to have their bodies buried in some shallow grave as fertilizer for the next crop of pot plants in Cuba or some worse fate that he couldn't even imagine.

It took several long seconds before he was able to breathe again and his mind cleared enough to speak in a low tone, hoping the drone of the engines on either side of them would be enough to mask their conversation from eavesdropping, "Are you sure?"

"It has been over six weeks." She responded. "I did not think about it, because we have been so focused and time seemed to pass without me really recording it."

"Could it just be stress?" he asked, he'd known enough women in his time to know there were other reasons for this exact situation.

She just shook her head.

He looked in her eyes and saw her certainty. He couldn't help a tiny smile as he reached across to place a hand on her stomach. He looked her in the eye, hoping she could see the silent promise that he was making to her.

He would do whatever he had to do so that they made it out of here unharmed.

He blinked back a sudden moisture building in his eyes and could have kicked himself for the reaction he was having, but he was not alone. Knowing it wouldn't blow their cover, he leaned across the space at the same moment she did and gave her a gentle kiss.

He shifted a little further to place his mouth near her ear; he had to make sure she had understood. He whispered softly, "We'll keep her safe. She's going to be beautiful, just like her mother."

He heard the muffled sob against his shoulder, and didn't pull away for several seconds as Ziva composed herself. He finally felt her straightening back into her chair as she looked up into his eyes, any trace of tears or sadness buried once again.

"She?" was all she asked, a hint of humor in the tilt of her lips.

Tony just shrugged and grasped her hand again in the space between their seats as he slipped back into his mind. He had to work out further thoughts on how they could take control of this situation with no weapons and no back up.

He was shocked at the variety of emotions rolling through him. He had always been protective of those he loved, but he had never imagined this moment being a new level of frightening. He felt an ache in his chest, a keen apprehension building there that was soul deep, but at the same time, he was overwhelmed with a flood of warmth and joy.

He glanced at Ziva out the corner of his eye and noticed her contemplative expression as she continued to size up the men in the airplane with them. His smile widened slightly.

She was strong, they were strong, and they could do this. They had to do this.

Suddenly he was grinning like a fool, as it sank in fully. They were going to have a baby. The smile fell almost as quickly as he followed her gaze and his thought amended itself, if they survived.

xoxo

A/N: Sorry for the delay over the long holiday weekend. I appreciate your patience with me on working through this.


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

Tony watched Ziva work her way quietly through the room from his spot on the bed. They had been showed to a suite in a large mansion overlooking what was probably a private beach. From travel time, they were definitely in Cuba, but beyond that, they couldn't be sure.

No introductions were made, very little was spoken. They were told that someone would be meeting them in a couple of hours. Then, they were asked for their sizes as it concerned their clothing, an odd request.

"We did not give you time to pack, the least we can do is make you comfortable while you're here." Omar Haulia told them as he passed on their information to a uniform wearing member of the house staff.

That had been over an hour ago.

They were instructed to rest, neither was sure if they were actually supposed to stay in their room. If it was a form of captivity or if it was optional and they were free to roam the vast lush grounds outside their third floor window. They had decided not to risk a walk outside and instead surveyed their surroundings from the vantage point they had.

Ziva had certainly covered every square inch of their room, positioning several items for easy access, rearranging lamps, wall coverings, and the bar out of the closet after sliding the hangers to the ground. She was obviously noting the location of things they could use as weapons, or arranging items to be readily available for that purpose, but not visible to whoever may enter the room.

Ziva stood in the middle of the room as she stared blankly at the dresser along the far wall. He wondered if she was thinking about the handles. He wondered whether she was considering them for their tactical merits or with regard to the new scar on his face.

She jumped slightly when there was a soft knock on the door, but quickly covered it as he stood. He waved off her approach and opened the door himself. The man who had been sent away earlier presented him with two shopping bags.

In broken Eglish, heavily accented, the uniformed man informed them that their guest would be delayed for several hours and asked if they wanted some food before they turned in for the night, as they must be hungry and tired from their journey.

Tony was tempted to decline food, but looked to Ziva before answering. She shook her head and he replied, "No, thank you. We'll just call it a night."

Once the man had left, they dumped the bags over the surface of the bed and discovered a pair of flannel pajama pants for each of them, a couple of t-shirts, board shorts, jeans, and tank tops.

"How long do they think we're staying? This is at least two day's worth of clothes." She sounded flustered. He didn't like it.

"It will give us time to figure out our next move." He responded non-committally.

"Do not wear the jeans." She said as she gathered the items she would need for sleeping in.

He was confused and he let his eyebrow arch up to ask the question for him.

"The pajama pants and shorts have drawstrings. In the event we need to defend outselves, we can pull the strings to use as a ligature."

Her practicality when discussing the methods of killing someone in defense of themselves was an eye opener.

He had always thought she was at least partially joking when she made off hand references to what she could do with various objects. Seeing her move through the room and discover not less than twenty items they could use with deadly force if the need arouse had him feeling a hint of gratitude. If he had known she could find all this in a nearly empty room, he probably never would have kissed her that first time in his living room.

Thinking about his living room had him feeling a sudden wave of homesickness as he gathered items to move them to the empty dresser and get changed for bed. Once they had both changed into the comfortable pajamas, leaving the ties loose in the event they were needed without notice, he pulled her close to his chest under the comforting weight of the heavy quilt.

He felt her lips against his ear as she turned her face up, "They might be listening." She whispered, softly.

They fell silent for a long moment and she snuggled into his side, her head resting on his shoulder. Tony wasn't sure if she had fallen asleep.

"How?" he asked her, wondering exactly what kind of answer he expected to get with such a vague question. The context was far from the previous conversation topic, but the most prominent thing on his mind.

He was about to let it go or elaborate so she understood, when she responded, "I have been wondering that as well."

"We always used protection." He stating, trying to think over their time together, "Uh, except today in the shower." He added, feeling a little sheepish at the admission that they had both lost their senses so thoroughly that neither had thought of the consequences. "But that wouldn't explain it being six weeks for you."

"The kitchen." She responded simply, "The first time after. . ." and she stopped as if she couldn't go on.

She didn't need to continue. He knew what she was trying to say.

The first time after she had come back to him. The first time after the air had been cleared. The first time he had been able to breathe again without the painful reminder of what they had but would never know again.

Thinking back to the primal nature of their coupling that night, he was surprised that they hadn't realized it sooner. It was odd considering they had gone upstairs and started all over again in the bed and they had used protection that time.

Thinking about it, that should have triggered a moment of recognition in one or both of them, but he could remember not being able to think clearly that night.

It had been hell when he lost her, like his entire world exploded. That night had put him in a fog of emotion and he wasn't able to see anything except her. Blinded to anything but pleasing her repeatedly until she screamed for him to end the maddening pace he had set for them and begged him to fall with her.

"I'm sorry. I should have. . ." and this time he let his own voice fall away as he saw the hurt flash in her eyes. "No, stop. That's not what I'm saying."

"What are you saying then?" it was odd to hear her actually sound nervous.

"I'm not sorry about this, just the timing." The blank expression she had been trying to construct to mask what she was feeling began to fall back away. "I actually had a vision of you holding our little girl after she was born." His tone dropped, he hadn't meant to tell her that, but it was out there and he saw the tilt in her eyebrows.

"When did you have this little vision?" she asked, and he was relieved to hear the hint of humor in her voice.

"In the hospital, after we were nearly blown to bits." Quiet words, spoken and followed with no movement as she considered that perhaps she would think he planned all this, even though he hadn't, and she would use one of the couple dozen weapons she had found to dispense of him.

"You do not think it was just the drugs talking?" she was still obviously humored, so he let out the breath he wasn't aware he had been holding in anticipation of her lashing out.

He had to smile at that, "No." he said sincerely and graced her with a full smile, despite their situation, "Not anymore."

Her smile was a little sad and it broke his heart to see the concern in her eyes as she considered the precarious position they were in.

"Go to sleep, Motek." She finally said, "I am not yet tired and will stay up a while."

He understood what she was trying to say. One of them needed to be awake in case someone came for them in the night. "Wake me in a few hours if you want to talk or anything."

She leaned in and brushed her lips lightly across his eyelids, making them flutter closed. "I love you." She whispered, sounding as if her throat was constricted and he wondered if she was fighting tears.

His heart beat rapidly in his chest as he pulled her to him more completely. He wished for what had to be the hundredth time that day that they were at home right now.

He couldn't actually appreciate the full sense of wonder that should be rolling through him at this moment as it was inhibited by the bone chilling fear of not being able to protect them. He would kill to protect Ziva, but knowing she was carrying his child made him sick with worry.

How was she supposed to get the proper vitamins and nutrients? He shouldn't have said no about the food earlier. She probably needed to go to the doctor.

A sudden thought hit him and his eyes flew wide open, meeting Ziva's which were still focused on him from a few feet away. He must have had his concern blatantly written on his face because she instantly looked on him with worry and a questioning lift of her eyebrows, "The tranquilizer?" he finally choked out.

He immediately realized he should have kept his mouth shut as he saw the wave of concern overtake her delicate features. After a long moment she finally spoke, "We will see a doctor as soon as we get back."

It was the only answer she could give him, the only answer available to them at the moment, and it did little to reassure the worry in him.

They did not need to take shifts, as they were both kept awake with their thoughts for several hours, until footfalls approached from down the hall before there was a knock at their door.

xoxo

A/N: Sorry, it's a little shorter than usual and doesn't advance the plot any, but I have had the worst couple of days and need my characters to enjoy a little quiet.

My birthday was on the 28th, I turned 28 making it my golden birthday. I had to work all day, while two of my nieces had surgery to remove their tonsils and adenoids. Then my daughter woke me up in the middle of the night getting sick all over everything in the house, which I had to clean up. I got no sleep, and stayed home from work. Unfortunately, I didn't get to rest, relax, or write, because I got a call from my sister that one of my nieces had uncontrollable bleeding this morning and had to go back in for an emergency cauterization of the bleed in her throat. I hope things get better from here, because I don't know how much more I can take!

Thanks for reading. I will be back as soon as life and my muse let me roll forward.


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

The knock at the door was another uniformed member of the house staff. The middle-aged man handed Tony two pairs of slippers and suggested they come downstairs for breakfast in ten minutes.

As the man left, Tony and Ziva exchanged a glance and then noted that it was not even five in the morning.

As much as she didn't want to leave the false sense of safety that lying in Tony's arms provided, they had to follow the instructions they were given if they wanted to find a way out of here.

They had to keep up the pretense and save their cover if they ever wanted to go home.

Unsure if it was the new hormones in her body, she felt tears prick her eyes and blinked them away as she made quick work of arming herself and Tony with small, easily hidden items they could use as weapons.

Ziva found the moment of quiet introspection as they made their way down the large marble staircase, to be reassuring. It allowed her to compartmentalize her concerns, steady her breathing and focus her thoughts.

She had never been more frightened on a mission before, not even when it looked as if she were facing certain death. Not even under threat of torture and everything she had experienced in Somalia. There she had wished for death, would have welcomed it. She had some to peace with herself and was prepared to die in that place, but they had not let her.

She knew in her heart that she and Tony were very capable. She knew they had been without back up nearly the entire mission. She knew that this meeting would most likely end unceremoniously with a brief discussion of some kind and a trip back to the mainland.

Regardless of all she knew, she was scared. Perhaps it was the pregnancy hormones that she had heard so many people talk about. Perhaps it was the 'maternal instincts' other women spoke of. Perhaps it was just that she had someone so completely defenseless relying on her for everything they needed.

She was shaken. Glancing at Tony as they reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw his reassuring smile. She saw that boyish charm and in his eyes was the same promise that was there earlier. He would keep them safe.

The thought reassured her, but not as much as the makeshift weapons hidden throughout her baggy pajamas. She could use any number of them within a second with deadly results and have control of one of the other men's weapons. If she needed to.

She fought the desire to take out the first armed guard they saw and shoot their way out of here. She fought the urge to run as fast as her legs would carry her. Tony would keep up.

He had never been able to do that until this mission.

While his legs were longer than hers were, his body was never attuned to the level of her physical fitness. After the mission started and he wouldn't let her run alone in the mornings, his body had quickly adapted to the pace she set. Every day she moved them faster, until she was completing her normal morning run and last week he had even kept up without being so winded.

She knew they could probably outrun every person in this house, but she also knew a bullet moved faster than their legs.

As they walk into a grand dining room, they are met with a distinguished looking man, dressed in a full expensive Italian suit. He looked to be in his mid to late fifties with a full head of white hair that complemented the charcoal grey of his suit.

She knew what this was. She understood why they were asked to come down in their pajamas and not worry about getting changed. This was the man's attempt at intimidation. By appearing superior to them on the first meeting, he was setting a tone for their interaction that included them feeling uncomfortable. She would not give him the satisfaction and instead imagined she was in a long flowing gown. The blue one that Tony had picked out for her to wear next time they went out to dinner.

She knew who this man was by his smug expression and the latent fear in those around him. This was the leader of the Cuban Cartel. Eduardo Rodriguez was only a pawn in the South Beach area.

He introduced himself to them with a gravelly voice, "I am Ramon." His first name rolled easily off his tongue and then he waited for them to reciprocate.

"Tony and Ella Malcuso." Tony responded easily.

After a little small talk, the man's heavy Cuban accent making it hard to understand him at some points, he finally asked them, "Why are you here, meddling in my affairs?"

Ziva knew if it were up to Tony they would be backpedaling right now to stay on the man's good side, but she knew this man's type and so in response to his question she scoffed and gave a bitter laugh, "You are the ones who nearly had us captured by the FBI. If it were not for our team being on alert, we would have been caught with red hands."

"Red-handed." Tony corrected immediately.

She just rolled her eyes at him, "It is the same thing, no?" she asked, her frustration with the situation playing into her snapping at him.

He just grinned down at her with a look of abject love and adoration on his face, as he shook his head to tell her that no, it was not the same.

Suddenly, the drug lord across the large table from them began laughing. His merriment was expressed in a full deep rumbling that had nothing but joy and good humor in it. Ziva felt herself relax just slightly; this had to be a good sign.

"Is she always like that?" the man addressed Tony as if she were no longer in the room with them.

"English as a fifth or sixth language or something," he responded with a fond smile and a wave of his hand as if the number order of her languages was not important, "She gets idioms mixed up all the time, but it's cute."

The drug lord considered them with an odd expression before smiling and waving towards the seats on one side of him in invitation to sit. "I do the same thing." He spoke to Ziva as they got settled. "People who are born in America and speak English first do not understand just how many things they say that do not make any sense linguistically."

Ziva returned the smile, still wary on the inside, but composed and enjoying herself to anyone observing, "It is nice to meet someone who understands my plight." She responded lightly, giving Tony a playfully jab in the ribs before turning back to Ramon. "It is always something ridiculous like 'there is more than one way to skin a cat'. Tell me why anyone would want to skin a cat. Unless of course they are starving and it was their only food."

That look of amusement was back in the drug lord's eyes, "I like her." He said to Tony and then snapped his fingers. The house staff began walking into and out of the kitchen carrying out platters of fruit and pastries. 

Ziva was glad to see the fresh fruits. While they were serving breakfast in a family style with plates laden with food that they would be sharing with the man at the table, she was cautious of anything they might be served. Fresh fruit such as apples would show signs of tamper in the skin and she could cut and peel it to avoid anything that was placed on the outside.

They were joined by Omar and another man they had not seen on arrival. He was dressed in a suit, similar in style and portrayal of wealth as the one worn by Ramon, but he had a red and white keffiyeh on his head.

She recognized the meaning of those colors and new instantly he was Hamas.

"Why do you believe that Abdur Rashid is responsible for the incident last week?" Ramon asked, gesturing toward the Hamas leader, his former humor completely gone and replaced with a sudden serious expression as he watched them.

"We thought it might have been someone else. We don't know Mr. Rashid." Tony said.

Ziva actually allowed a laugh to escape, hoping the situation could remain light and carefree. "It is not Mr. Rashid, Motek." Ziva gazed up at him, surprised how easy it was to show the world the adoration she had for Tony in public. Though it was part of their cover to be affectionate, she found it comfortable and comforting. "I am certain we have been over this, Abdur is not a first name when used alone. Technically his first name would be Abdur Rashid." Turning back to Abdur Rashid she continued, "I am sorry for my husband. He has a hard time with languages that are not his own."

Ramon was grinning, "And he gives you trouble about idioms."

She and the drug lord shared a companionable laugh on the subject.

"We heard rumors of a connection between your Cartel and a terrorist group. After the gun buy was nearly busted we may have made some assumptions based in anger and frustration." Tony piped up. "Of course, we must have been mistaken, since we don't know Abdur Rashid," Tony enunciated the man's name clearly, looking at Ziva as if to say 'I got it, so there' before adding, "but that doesn't change the fact that you have some kind of leak and we don't intend to do business with you again unless you plug it."

Ziva continued, "We do not appreciate being set up, but if the set up was against you and not us, then it would stand to reason that you have someone working against you."

"We can't risk getting on anyone else's bad side right now." Tony smiled between the two leaders, "We have made enough enemies all on our own without taking on your enemies, too."

"It is not possible." Ramon responded. "There would not be an FBI team with inside knowledge about anything we do."

"Keep telling yourself that, Ramon." Tony replied in a cocky tone as he popped a grape in his mouth.

Ziva felt the urge to kick him under the table. He was antagonizing these men. They did not have the leverage to be pulling any stunts with the leaders of a Cuban Drug Cartel and a Hamas Terrorist Cell.

"We have a man inside the FBI. He would have told us if there was something going on." Omar Haulia spoke up.

"Unless this contact is the reason the FBI knows what you're up to." Ziva considered off hand, "Do you trust him?"

She watched the tick in Ramon's jaw as his eyes hardened and he seemed to be considering her words. "I do not trust anyone." He finally responded and then gave them both a very pointed look, "Including you."

"I'm certain he would have warned us if there was going to be a raid." Omar interjected.

Tony shrugged, "Unless the idea of taking down international weapon smugglers was too nice a prospect for him to pass up." His grin widened, "Not to be cocky or emit an over-inflated sense of self."

Ramon, obviously still feeling confident in his superiority and comfortable in his own space, laughed at Tony's sense of humor. "I like you two."

Tony gave a shrug with his fake smile that no one else seemed to realize was merely a cover for something else.

"I still don't trust you." The drug lord continued, "Please feel free to enjoy breakfast and go for a stroll or something. My men and I have some things to look into." With that, he and the other two men left the room.

Ziva knew what that meant. They would probably be watched like a hawk while their cover was checked and rechecked from various angles.

She just hoped it held up.

xoxo

A/N: Haha! Screw you writer's block! This was the toughest hump to get over. I have been having such a hard time with believability and finally Gibbs-slapped my OCD and need for everything to be perfect with all my ducks in a row. I'm glad to be back and hope you all don't hate me for leaving you for so long.


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Standing on the long stretch of private beach, sand shifting beneath his feet, fresh ocean breeze on his face, he couldn't help but daydream. Tony was resting his chin against the top of Ziva's head as he held her from behind and they looked out over the expanse of ocean before them.

They had ventured upstairs long enough to change into the board shorts and tank tops they had been provided and left for a walk on the beach. While he was entirely too aware of the armed guards that seemed to be everywhere on the grounds, he made himself focus on the waves lapping the shore.

Gentle waves rocked the sparkling blue sea, and Tony felt himself adrift in his thoughts. He shifted to place a light kiss on Ziva's temple before settling more firmly against her. He wasn't about to let negative thoughts steal what could be their final moments of peace, so instead he pretended they were on vacation.

He was good at pretending, anyone who knew him well could attest to that.

He allowed his hands to drop from her shoulders to her hips before gently gliding them forward until his hands were splayed across her abdomen and his face was buried in the waves of her hair that hung down across her neck. He felt her shift against him and hoped she wasn't pulling away. It would end the fantasy of carefree contentment he was constructing in his mind.

Her hand moved up to lie across his forearm before gently trailing down to entwine her fingers with his against her stomach. "Do you think she would like the beach?" Ziva asked quietly, tilting her head to the side.

He watched her head tilt away from him, mesmerized as hair fell off her shoulder exposing her neck. He leaned in to place a gently kiss on the newly exposed patch of skin. He didn't know how to respond. To his ears, it sounded like a statement of defeat.

Ziva sounded so sure that something was going to happen to her, the baby, or perhaps all of them, but he didn't want to let go of the happy little bubble he had encased his mind in. "I bet she already does."

She was silent against him, tension still radiating off her in waves and he knew she was worried. He just couldn't bring himself to worry with her at the moment, at least not on the outside. He knew if something happened, he would do everything he could to ensure her safety. If that meant he had to sacrifice himself so she could get away, he would do it in a heartbeat.

If something did happen, he wanted this moment for her to hold onto when she was lonely or scared. He wanted this moment for her to share with their unborn child as he or she grew up.

He wanted to give the gift of the memory of love in hard times. Give a glimpse of happiness, however brief, in times of fear. He knew, in a heartbeat, he would die to keep them safe. As much as he didn't want that to happen, Tony accepted the prospect with ease. When thinking of Ziva and the tiny life she carried, he would give anything to protect them, even if it meant giving everything.

The smell of her mixed with the salty sea breeze seemed to calm him as he let the negative thoughts drift away again, "I actually kind of hope it's a boy." He said softly into her skin.

He felt her relax against him and her voice when she spoke was soft as the whisper of the ocean across their skin, "So you can teach him to play basketball and do boy things together?"

"No," he responded. He heard his own hushed tone, but he knew his was due to emotion that felt as if it were constricting his throat and making it difficult to find his next breath, "I want to teach him about looking after his little sister."

He felt her hands release his and wondered if he had said the wrong thing. He was caught up in the idea of being a family with her and this baby and back in his vision of that colonial house on the outskirts of DC on a warm summer evening playing ball with his boy while his wife and daughter cheered them on. He had not been willing to admit it, even to himself, back then, but Ziva had been a part of that picture.

He would have known if he put much stock in his daydreams. He had been a little blonde child, so visions of two brown haired kids with skin a little darker than his own should have been his first clue that his subconscious was further ahead of him than he thought.

He felt her moving away from him and wanted to hold her in place so she couldn't run from this, not their family, not from the dream he never knew he wanted so badly.

He finally registered she wasn't pulling away when she was fully facing him and pulling him close with her arms around his waist. She buried her face in his neck as he rubbed gently circles on her back, letting his breath out slowly and squeezing his eyes shut against the sudden onslaught of emotions the moment had shaken from him.

"I would like that." She finally said, standing tall to plant a tender kiss against the underside of his jaw.

His resolve was more firm than ever, after hearing the sincerity in her voice. They were going to make it out of here. They were going to go home and settle down and raise a family; because it was everything that he never knew he needed so badly.

He knew them both well enough to know they would probably never stop doing the kind of work they did so well. It was meaningful work, but the more he thought about the life they had created together, the more he knew beyond a doubt that everything in their worlds had suddenly and irrevocably changed.

No more undercover work. No more leaving town for months at a time. He thought about spending his life with his own kids, doing the parenthood thing the right way with patience, love, and Ziva by his side. He found the thought completely squelched any desire to have another mission anywhere near the depth of this one.

"We should be trying to figure out how to get out of here." He was finally able to speak, but as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted that he was breaking the moment.

Ziva didn't release him as she nuzzled her nose into his neck, "From the house, we move along the eastern wall, there is a lot of tree coverage on that side and will provide adequate barrier for minimal gunfire as well as ease of movement." She shifted, and he found himself frozen between awe and desire as she flicked her tongue against his neck before continuing, "We head north to the water where we will be most exposed for approximately twenty yards while we cross the sand to the docks. Hot wire a boat and move quickly. We can be in Florida within hours."

"You got a plan B?" he asked, still mulling over the thought of running over twenty yards of exposed beach and then trying to provide adequate cover fire while hotwiring a boat. Not to mention the ammo needed if they were pursued by the cartel if they survived long enough to even get on the boat.

"Kill them all, burn the crop and call Gibbs." She responded so casually he had to laugh.

They walked the beach for what felt like ages. Eyes trained, for the most part, on the sand, the water, or each other. Occasionally he would catch a glimpse of one of the heavily armed men watching them and it instantly snapped him out of his visions of family and a beach vacation with a couple of kids building sandcastles and saying 'Ew!' as he kissed Ziva when he thought they weren't looking.

He didn't know how many times they had walked back and forth across the beach, sometimes hand in hand, other times with an arm around each other.

Someone cleared their throat from the grassy area just off the beach. It stopped them in their tracks and had them turning towards the man who had been attempting to get their attention.

"Your presence is requested in the dining hall." The house staffer informed them, before he turned and started back towards the house.

The other men who had been eying them the entire time, started closing in and Tony was certain this was not a request. Giving Ziva's hand a gentle squeeze he started leading them back towards the house.

They walked slowly, talking about the scenery and the weather as if they didn't have a care in the world. Tony was certain their slow pace did not thrill the four men, with submachine guns, who were following their every move. They were probably used to running whenever their boss asked them to do something.

They couldn't jump and run for the man, however, because they had to try to assert themselves as equals in the criminal underbelly of the world. They had to display the cover that they were a couple of criminals with a highly skilled team backing them up.

Most of that was true, everything except the criminal part and Tony suddenly wondered if Gibbs had already made it to Cuba. Perhaps he was already watching them, waiting for some kind of signal from his team that the men they were after were inside the house or a signal when they arrived.

The sudden thought had his hope of backup to help in their extraction soaring. With a smile that was at least a little genuine, because he knew Gibbs had to have used the several hours they had already been here to formulate some kind of plan, Tony racked his brain for a signal.

Turning his attention to the mansion in front of them, Tony started a conversation with Ziva concerning the architecture. As he spoke, he pointed in the general direction of the house and tried to time his words with the manner in which he was pointing. Three longer points, three quick points and three longer points. He paused a moment before doing the same thing and he hoped Gibbs got the message as loud as Ziva had. 'S.O.S.' in Morse code.

She was casually discussing the stone columns along the veranda that extended the length of the back of the mansion, but in her eyes, he saw the comprehension. They had been so focused on how they could get themselves out that apparently he wasn't the only one who had not thought Gibbs would show up as soon as humanly possible.

To Gibbs, things that seemed inhuman were humanly possible and with that thought he was certain they were not alone. They finally reached the house and he held the large glass door for her to precede him, and he felt a sense of calm he hadn't over the course of this trip.

The calm turned to an icy feeling in his veins as they entered the great room through the back of the house. Standing across the living room from him was a man he recognized and not from any terrorist alert or any affiliation with this case.

Ron Potts was a man in his mid-forties, greying heavy on his temples stark against his jet-black hair. He had been more than ten years younger last time Tony had seen him, and the years had not treated him kindly if the new addition of a potbelly was anything to go by.

If this was their FBI mole, Tony was dead in the water. They had worked a case together just before he joined NCIS. The FBI, Boston PD and NCIS together on the case of a Mob boss. Tony had been undercover for that case, too, but he was hoping that his interaction with the older man would not bring recollection.

Tony had been in his twenties back then, his cover had included a thick and gooey gel to slick back his hair. Sometimes, when he thought about that time, he could still smell the musky odor of that brand, still feel it on his fingers after putting it on.

Time had changed him, he knew, but he was worried it had not been enough.

As Potts glanced up, to see who was approaching, Tony saw the flash of recognition in his features and his heart plummeted. The expression was gone quickly and as they were introduced, the FBI agent acted as if this were their first meeting.

Tony was surprised to find out that the FBI mole they had was actually an undercover agent and they probably had way more than enough back up on this case now, with Gibbs probably hiding somewhere in the brush with a sniper rifle and the FBI on the case, he suddenly felt a near certainty about the mission.

As they all joined Ramon and Abdur Rashid, back in the dining hall, they began brainstorming on their problem of a leak for information concerning the gun buy or the gunrunners.

Having finished lunch a few minutes before, Tony was merely observing the conversation. Ziva occasionally threw out ideas, but for the most part the two of them let the other men in the room lead the conversation.

He wondered if she was experiencing morning sickness this early in the pregnancy as she barely touched the soup she had been given for lunch. She needed to eat to keep her strength up. She needed to eat to keep the baby healthy.

Pushing the thought away, now was not the time, he focused on the conversation again. He was finding it hard to follow what the men were talking about as he felt the room start to spin around him. The spinning seemed to focus his thoughts as his gaze fell on the FBI agent at the table.

If he really was undercover as a mole, then he was doing a damn good job of it, because there had actually been witnesses killed in FBI custody. That's a pretty extreme measure to go to in order to sell a cover ID. It would never happen.

Panic filled him as he looked to Ziva and watched several guards behind them move up with guns trained on her. He tried to stand, only to fall back against the floor, his muscles weak, his head spinning.

He watched the room fill with armed guards and Ziva's eye shoot to his after she scanned the room and obviously determined that she would not be able to fight off this many men.

Two men came forward and pulled Ziva out of her chair. He could only watch as the natural instinct to fight kicked in and she started to struggle. Another man stepped forward, and swung the blunt end of his gun towards her.

He knew the man's intention was to knock the wind out of her so she could be restrained, but his aim at her stomach with a hard blow had Tony screaming incoherently.

Ziva saw the man's actions; he should have known she would. Instead of taking the hit in the stomach, she suddenly dropped down low. The butt of the man's gun impacted against her dropped shoulder, glancing off the angle and catching her square across the chin.

The men laughed as she crumpled to the ground from the blow and mocked her stupidity in the situation. Tony had never been more proud of her skills, however, and if he got her out of here, he was going to have to tell her how amazing she was.

The act of sacrificing clear consciousness with being hit in the stomach seemed humorous to the group that went about binding him and Ziva, but Tony knew her reasoning and it had nothing to do with being a stupid woman. It had everything to do with self-sacrifice and natural protective instincts.

As he felt his own consciousness fading, a shadow passed over him blocking the already fading light. He looked up to see Ramon standing over him with the same grin he had graced them with earlier. His humor fully in place, though this was far from a laughing matter in Tony's opinion.

"Mr. DiNozzo, you two will tell me what I need to know." He heard the man chuckle, "Soon, I don't think you're up for it now."

The dark spots that had been swimming in his vision grew larger by the second until all he saw was darkness. Then even the sound of the room slipped away from him and he felt tears fill his eyes for his failure to protect her as he had promised.

All sensation finally left him and he would never know if those tears broke free from his eyes.

A/N: Please don't kill me for leaving you here, this is already almost a thousand words over a normal chapter and if I keep going, I'm never going to get anything posted . . . plus I needed a change of scenery. ;)

I will try to have the next chapter up tomorrow, provided I can think through the rest of the scene I will be writing next.

Thanks for reading.


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter 40

She had let their captors believe she was unconscious after the blow she took. Lying on the floor, curled in a way that provided maximum protection of her unborn child, she tried to stay limp as they bound her. She could see the blurred room through the lashes on her eyes, closed but for a tiny slit. She waited for an opportunity to strike, but none presented itself.

That is how she came to be bound to a chair by handcuffs, feet tied so tightly to the legs of the chair that she was concerned for issues of circulation. They had fastened Tony similarly to another chair in the room and left them there.

It was a long time before Tony started to show signs of waking. By then, she had used her foot, now thoroughly asleep, to inch her chair towards his. By the time his eyes fluttered open examining her in a dazed manner, she had arranged her chair directly in front of his.

Scooting across the floor had been made easier by the fact that her upper body had not been tethered and she had free range of motion in everything but her arms and legs.

"I'm so sorry." His first words were slightly slurred from whatever he had been drugged with.

With one final scoot, she was facing him directly, her knees touching against his. "It was not your fault."

He ignored her reassurance, "Did they hurt you?"

She tilted her head, showing him where the gun had struck her. If the throbbing pain was anything to go by, there was probably a serious bruise and swelling of the area. "I maintained consciousness." She said simply.

"What happened?" he asked, though she was certain from his expression he knew the basic details and was looking for insight she probably couldn't provide.

"The FBI Agent identified you while we were outside. They had a laugh over it as they had run a very thorough search and our cover was holding. If not for that man having worked with you before they would have suspected nothing."

She watched him hang his head. Defeat was written across his face, along with something else. Guilt. She finally identified it. "This is not your fault." She told him, though from the look he gave her she knew he wasn't buying it.

"Did they say anything else?" he finally asked, allowing the topic to fall away.

She could only shake her head, unable to take that look in his eyes. He felt as if he had failed in his promise to keep them safe and he had already given up as if all was lost.

"Come here." She said softly.

He looked at her with an incredulous expression, "Can't." he said simply, loosely pulling at the restraints on his wrists.

She leaned towards him, showing him what she had meant and with a little straining and an uncomfortable shift; they met in the middle, foreheads resting against each other. "You did not let us down." She told him steadily. "You have not yet failed."

"How long do you think before they come back and finish this?" he asked bitterly.

"Hopefully long enough for me to make you believe. This is not the end of the story, Tony." She told him, trying to convey her certainty of the fact despite how little she was feeling certain.

"Even you don't believe that." He said and she knew she had not been successful in portraying her confidence.

"I have my doubts." She replied simply.

They fell silent for a long moment. Leaning forward was starting to make her left arm go numb, but she didn't want to pull away. "Do you remember what we talked about in the car months ago? What you said to me before we were ever together?"

"Yeah." His voice was whisper soft, but she heard the emotion buried beneath the single word.

"I am not ready to give up the desire to be the person holding our daughter while you and our son play football. Perhaps she would like to play, too, though if we have a boy first we would not be able to fairly play girls against boys."

Tony's small laugh sounded weak, but there was honesty in the sound and it warmed her heart, "I don't know about that. I'm fairly certain any daughter you have is going to be just as strong as you are."

She shifted further, the handcuffs biting painfully into the flesh on her wrists as she moved to rest her cheek against his. "Aside from this baby, do you remember the last gift you gave me?"

She felt him nod weakly against her cheek and thought if she could see his expression it would probably be confused. She decided to be more direct, "They were beautiful and thoughtful. I wish I could hold them in my hand."

She heard the tiny intake of breath as he finally caught on to her veiled comment.

He shifted and she felt his expression change on a wince before his breath brush warmly across her ear. She knew the skill he possessed in his lips and tongue so she tilted her head slightly to one side and let him have free access.

The heat of his tongue on her skin as his lips closed gently around her earlobe would normally send her body tingling, but this was not the time and instead she felt anxious. A moment later, he was drawing away and she felt disappointment.

"You could not get it?" she asked sad he pulled far enough away to see his face with a triumphant smile as he stuck out his tongue to display the intricately wound heart. She hadn't even felt a tug when it was removed. "Lean down."

It took some working, but he was finally able to position his mouth over her hand and dangled the jewelry from his lips until he was certain it would drop in just the right spot.

She felt the moist metal hit direct center in her palm and tightly curled her fists around it. Both relaxed back in their seats slightly as she started to work unraveling the paperclip earring.

It took her long than she would have thought to accomplish the task with her fingers tingling from loss of blood flow. Once a single hand was free, she reached over to gently brush Tony's cheek before starting on her other hand.

"We're getting out of here." She told him.

She started on his hands next, freeing one before she started on the bindings on her legs. "Do not take them all the way off, in case we are interrupted. We will need to pretend to still be captive."

Tony nodded and they both worked on their legs. She was finished before him and the blood returning to her feet caused a painful stabbing sensation through her feet that ran up her calves. She ignored the pain and while he finished his feet one handed, she picked the lock on his other wrist.

Finally free, they could leave the chairs and the possible interpretation that they were still bound. Tony moved to the door to stand guard in case someone came in, while Ziva removed the cuffs in the event they needed a restraint method and grabbed the rope from their feet as well, passing a length to Tony. Until they got guns, these two items were their only weapons.

Tony knew they could use a chair if someone came in here, but carting it through the house would be bulky and inefficient. They couldn't risk smashing it to provide them something with sharp edges; it would draw too much attention.

They were left with what they had and Tony placed his ear to the door, trying to interpret the muffled sounds from outside. The noise seemed distant and calm, but there was another sound in the background.

A soft thumping that seemed to get louder. He took a step back behind where the door would open and felt Ziva move up next to him. They were both snug against the wall when the handle turned and the door started to open.

A man stepped into the room, but before his surprise at the empty chairs could fully register, Ziva had moved faster than lightning the man was on the ground, head twisted at an odd angle from the broken neck. Ziva patted him down for weapons and found a handgun and a combat knife.

She handed him the gun and he tried to pass it back to her, "Can you throw this?" she asked quietly, flipping the knife over to hold the blade as if she were ready to throw the knife, learning the weight of it in her hands and estimating the force and spin she would need for several different distances.

He simply shook his head no and finally reached out to accept the gun, checking the full clip and chambering a round. "We can do this." He told her, obviously not as confident as she was, but still on a better side of positive.

He pulled her close for the briefest of moments, not wanting to draw attention to the man she had dispatched of by taking too long in the event someone was expecting his return. Holding her against him, he felt relief that they were still alive and confidence in their abilities to fight their way out of this, even if they were severely out gunned.

As she reached for the door handle, he asked. "So, plan B, then?"

xoxo

A/N: Wow, 100,000 words! Who stuck with me through the equivalent of two NaNoWriMo challenges? I'm nearing 250k total since Sept 26, 2010 and I have to say, as crazy as that feels, it's good to be writing again after nearly ten years off, even if I'm doing it a little obsessively.

Thanks for reading and letting me know that I have people out there who actually want to see the conclusion of this story that is so very long. We are coming to the end, obviously and it's been a great ride.


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter 41

He didn't think that Ziva would ever stop impressing him.

It was fascinating to watch her move through the house next to him. She was watchful, cautious and her movements were fluid. He felt like an ogre in comparison to her grace, yet she didn't try to leave his side to move more stealthily through the house.

He knew he couldn't fire the gun unless it was absolutely necessary, so while he grabbed the first man they came to with a sleeper hold; she made quick work of two other guards. They were able to salvage a knife for him and were more confident in their escape with an ak-47 and a pistol for each of them.

They both knew that the longer they avoided firing their weapons, the better their chance of making it out of the building and possibly the country. At the same time, the feeling of a submachine gun slung over his shoulder and the weight of the forty-five in his hand were reassuring and comforting as well.

They were in what had to be the basement of the house and they moved through the hallway to clear the floor before they ascended the stairs so no one could sneak up from below them.

As they approach the final door between them and the next floor of the house, noise inside alerted them that there were at least two more men in that room. They were communicating silently and had just solved the debate to pass the room. The door was closed, the stairs were right there. They could keep an eye on the door from the stairway until they were out of sight. There was no telling what would greet them on the other side of that door.

As they moved past the door, however, it opened. Both pulled up flush to the wall, hoping to avoid detection until whoever was coming out had made it far enough into the hall to be moved out of the way.

They shared one last look, before the man came into view, effectively severing their eye contact. The man turned in Ziva's direction, but before he could get a sound out to express his alarm, Tony grabbed him from behind.

It hadn't fully registered until just this moment that he had the man in a sleeper hold as he had done with the other guard he took out earlier. With stealth, he had watched her take down three men in rapid succession with just the knife and he had an all too clear understanding of the kind of weapon her father had thought he was losing when Ziva left Mossad.

It fully registered that he was using non-lethal force while she was being quick and efficient. Nothing made him realize what a mistake that was as much as what greeted him a moment later.

As he choked the cartel member into unconsciousness, Ziva silently moved into the room that the man had come out of to handle the other man they had heard from outside the door. The sound of shouting and furniture being banged around had him shifting into the doorway, the man still in his grips in front of him and his gun now positioned to precede him into the room.

He had always known she was dangerous, volatile, highly skilled and lightning fast. The room had been demolished in the space of the few seconds he had scrambled with the other man outside. A quick sweep showed two men sprawled on the floor, a knife in the chest of one, the other's head hanging at an odd angle, definitely snapped.

There was a third man. The state of that man had Tony's blood run cold.

The last thing he expected when he turned the corner was to see her kneeling on the floor with a gun to her head, blood pouring from a wound on her face, the extent of which he couldn't determine as her hair fanned across her features.

xoxo

McGee wiped the sweat off his brow for what had to be the hundredth time in the past couple of hours. The adrenaline rush had died away hours ago and this had turned into a bad stake out.

It was worse than sitting in a cramped apartment with Tony and staring at a storage facility for days on end. Sitting in the sun in above ninety degree temperatures with full combat gear on ready to lead a team of equally uncomfortable men into an uncharted, unplanned assault had to rank number one on the list of worst situations to find yourself in.

They had been waiting for hours for the sign to move. He knew they may never get it and this time spent getting a sunburn and being attacked by various predatory insects could be wasted.

Watching Tony and Ziva leisurely wander the beach before heading back inside, smiling and laughing, had been a relief after the level of worry that had gone through him as their plane flew off to destinations unknown.

Abby had been a wreck after that. He was glad to know that she was back in DC and that she was finally away from all of this and out of potential harm. Gibbs hadn't let her stick around once they had formulated travel plans.

The entire scheme they had worked up could prove to be in vane if Tony and Ziva came out in a little while sporting bathing suits and hitting the beach for some swimming. Tim's gaze flitted over to the beach. The ocean was so close and he was so hot. He wished it were any other day and he could go throw himself in the water and cool down.

He wanted nothing more than to end this raid, go in and finish this, but he also knew that couldn't happen. They couldn't just barge in, because if Tony and Ziva could still maintain their cover, then they needed them to follow the snake all the way to the head in order to chop it off effectively. He wished he had a moment to write that down; it was good imagery of the terrorist organization as a large snake. They were slimy and they slithered into placed they shouldn't be going.

He made a mental note, but was not certain he would retain it.

His eyes focused on the hillside where he was watching for a signal, but there was still nothing.

Half a dozen men with sub-machine guns slung over their shoulders had ventured outside with plates and were apparently enjoying the sun as they ate their lunch. They were joined by the other men who were out on the grounds.

Tim wondered, absently, if they had unionized their cartel, since everybody seemed to be getting a break to eat their lunches. Everybody but the men lying in wait with him and Gibbs to make a move. One of the men who had been walking the perimeter pulled a phone out of his pocket and began speaking.

They were too far away for him to make out the very brief conversation. Sudden movement caught his eye and he watched the man out near the beach start running toward the house. He appeared to be shouting and the men immediately stood from their plates and brought their weapons to the ready as they made their way toward the back of the house.

For some, it was the last thing they did as the silenced gunfire took them out cleanly with headshots. Gibbs was manning the sniper rifle and Tim wasn't surprised to see all but three of the men fall before being able to make it inside the house.

McGee gave the hand signal. Cover or no cover, they were moving in, because this was the start of their raid. If Tony and Ziva were not captured, killed, or tortured by now, this would have blown their cover.

Of course, eight men dropping dead from a sniper in the back yard didn't prove to be the most helpful thing in selling a cover story.

As quickly and quietly as they could, he and the five men reporting to him made their way over to the short stonewall. It was easy to hop and make their way towards the house with all the guards dead or distracted in the house.

It wouldn't be long before they were spotted. Just before they stepped out from behind the tree coverage, he spotted the signal on the kill and gestured for the others to take note.

Shoot to kill. Keep your heads down. Get them out alive.

Three objectives of the mission that were required as soon as the mirror flashed the summer sun in their direction. Five matching nods and they all brought their guns up to a secure height and started across the grass.

There was a gunman just inside the house, lying in wait for them to get close enough. Somehow, Tim spotted him in the house's interior that was far darker than the glaring sun outside.

With one shot, he sent the man to his knees as his bullet pierced the man's thigh. He watched the gun skitter away and felt a momentary sense of pride as he was flanked by men of far greater skill than he possessed. They were all waiting for his lead and he gave the go ahead without hesitation.

The soldiers descended on the house just as he caught a glimpse of Gibbs and his men moving towards their team.

With silent communication, Gibbs gestured for Tim to move through the back and he would take his team around the front side.

There was gunfire erupting from two different parts of the house as he entered through the glass doorway.

They encountered heavy resistance coming through and the volley of shots lobbed their direction from the cartel group was enough to obliterate an entire marble half wall they had been using for cover.

He made eye contact with the men in his unit as he pulled out a concussion grenade and pulled the pin.

The men acknowledged this as they crouched behind the wall, peppered with shrapnel from the marble surface being sprayed with bullets. Tim tuned his ears for the sound of Gibbs and his team and registered they were all the way on the other side of the house.

With a last breath, hoping that Tony and Ziva were nowhere near the men firing at them, McGee threw the grenade and heard the gunfire stop as shouts penetrated the air just before the bang. More shrapnel pelted their position.

His team made quick work of the men injured or disoriented and searched the simplistic furnishings and architecture for their cover. The sound of people running in their direction from another part of the house had the relief at the momentary ceasefire quickly dissipating.

xoxo

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to theCAKE who reminded me that you guys are all waiting for me to finish this story and while I might have a vague idea of how everything was going to work out, you are all out there in the dark waiting for an update. I keep trying to get all the logistics right and then I realized that it doesn't have to be perfect as long as the story is clear. So thanks for the motivational words and the kick in the butt.

Thanks for reading and letting me know that I have people out there who actually want to see the conclusion of this story that is so very long. We are coming to the end, obviously and it's been a great ride.


	42. Chapter 42

Oops, uploaded a chapter from my other story in error. I caught it in ten minutes, but if you started reading and got confused, I'm sorry, here's the actual chapter. (Yeah, I'm a dork!)

Chapter 42

The sight in front of Tony had his stomach clench and his arm tighten around the neck of the man in front of him. In a split second, he took it all in and had his gun trained on the man towering over Ziva.

He could have spouted an awesome movie line, could have said something intelligent or sarcastic, aggressive or inspired. Instead, with a blank mind, what came out of his mouth was a term used for greetings. "Hey."

The man's eyes flickered up to Tony and everything happened in the blink of an eye.

As soon as he saw the man's attention diverted, he started to pull the trigger. It seemed that Ziva's ninja skills extended to one of three things, telepathy, the ability to see out the top of her head, or an extraordinary amount of luck. The second the man's gaze shifted off her, she rocked back onto the balls of her feet, rolling onto her back in a move so quick and fluid he didn't register it fully from his peripheral vision.

By the time Tony had squeezed two shots into the man's chest from his already aimed gun, Ziva was flat on her back, handgun drawn from her waistband, safety disengaged, and a bullet placed through the man's head from the underside of his jaw. Her speed, agility and accuracy had him staring at her with a mix of admiration and a hint of fear as blood spilled from the wound on her head. He could clearly see the gash across her hairline, but there was no time to play medic.

The forgotten man in his grasp began to struggle with renewed vigor, apparently taking in the state of the three men he had left a moment before. Without a second thought, Tony flipped his gun so he was holding the warm barrel and cracked the man over the head with the butt of the pistol.

Ziva was standing by the time his focus shifted back to her. With a quick swipe of her sleeve across her brow, she cleared the blood seeping from a gash near her hairline.

As if their minds were one, they moved with a single focus.

Sounds of shouting and the thudding of running footfalls from upstairs let them know that they would soon have company. Ziva grabbed a small statue that had been lying near her on the floor. The blood let Tony know it was probably what had caused the cut on her head.

As she moved to the small window, he shoved the desk near the exterior wall. Once she had smashed the window out with the sculpture, she hopped on the desk and he pushed it flush to the wall beneath the window.

"Go." He told her as the sound of men starting down the stairs became louder as they drew closer. Ziva adjusted her gun in her grasp and moved the top half of her body through the window. She scanned both sides of the exterior before pulling herself the rest of the way out.

Once she was free, Tony climbed on the desk to follow her. It was a tighter squeeze for him and he could feel the bits of glass still stuck in the frame as they scraped along his broad shoulders and chest.

He managed to get his upper body through. Ziva grabbed his left arm to help pull him through, when a man rounded the corner of the building behind her. He brought his gun up at the same moment he shook her off and fired from his position half in, half out of the basement window.

Tony's bullet caught the cartel man square between the eyes. If it weren't for the fact that he wasn't sure if his heart was thundering in his head of that was the sound on men drawing closer to the room he was still hanging in, he would have taken a moment to gloat about the skill behind that shot. As it was, however, he redoubled his efforts to escape the room.

Ziva continued to help pull him out, though her eyes were scanning the surrounding area diligently. Her right eye, anyway, as her left was squeezed shut to prevent the blood flowing freely from her head from getting in her eye and blurring her vision.

Just as his feet cleared the window and he was fully outside, face down in the cool grass in the shade of the house, He heard gunfire crack the air and suddenly, Ziva was pushing him and firing through the window before she moved aside the house and out of the line of fire from men inside the room.

From his spot lying to the side of the window, he saw the approach of a small team of solders towards the back of the house. He thought he recognized a red, sweating McGee throwing hand signals and then firing towards the house.

Sudden gunfire sprang up from that direction as he and Ziva rose to their feet.

Firing into the room a final time to provide a moment of cover for him to cross over to the side of the window she was on, Ziva half started leading them towards the back of the house and their potential escape along the boat route she had plotted earlier.

Tony was watching behind them as she covered the direction they were head, "I think I just saw McGee go inside." He said over the sound of automatic gunfire.

They crouched low to pass a window near the backside of the house as it burst from gunfire and sprayed glass fragments down on them like rain.

Tony saw a head pop out of the window they had climbed out of and he stopped. His gun trained on the man climbing through, Tony waited until he was almost halfway out before the man finally turned his gun towards them. Tony finished him right there, hoping he would block the others behind him for at least long enough for them to take up a better position.

"Head for cover." He told her, but he knew by the look in her eyes that she understood what he was telling her.

"Come with me." She asked him, scanning for danger and allowing her eyes to slip towards the safety the tree line and stone wall would provide.

Tony shook his head, "McGee's in there."

The gunfire seemed never ending, and Tony was worried they had let those soldiers walk into certain death. The firepower these men had was not going to be calmed by a handful of soldiers rushing the house.

Just then, Tony heard another barrage of gunfire erupt at the front of the house. He was certain that Gibbs had to be there, talking up the other entrance. The team out front was taking fire nearly as heavy as what was deafening them from the other side of the rock wall they were leaning against.

"Ziva, please." He begged, "We just got out, don't go back in."

"I'm not leaving you." She said, sounding suddenly desperate as if she knew what he had thought down on the beach and was suspecting that's exactly what was about to happen. "You don't have enough ammo to go in there."

She was right about that. He had to leave his submachine gun when he climbed through the window and she had lost hers during the struggle in the tiny room. Finally, resigning himself to the fact that she was going to see this through, probably because she worried that if all was lost to the teams in the house, they would be in just as precarious a position as before, or wore, because there would be no other back up to sweep in.

With a nod, she gave him a weak smile and slipped away quickly to the man he had killed earlier. She removed his AK-47 and checked the clip as she made her way back to his side. "It is full." She said, trying to pass the weapon to him.

Tony shook his hand and took her pistol instead.

"Ready?" he asked as they stood on either side of the broken window they had been crouching under.

Ziva nodded, and he peeked through the shatter glass before quickly pulling back into position next to the window. "We got five guys, laying down heavy fire towards a half-wall on the other side."

Ziva acknowledged his words, "We will have to be careful of cross fire."

He nodded his agreement. Without another word, he told her silently that she was going to go first, knowing it was safer to lay down a barrage of fire before anyone knew there was someone shooting from outside the window behind and to the right of them.

Counting out three on his fingers, Ziva swept her gun quickly to the ready and pivoted. Quick and efficient, she fired three sets of rapid shots and spun back out to her position with her back to the wall beside the window just as more bullets flew through the window.

Tony heaved a sigh of relief as the gunfire suddenly stopped and shouting in Spanish floated through the broken glass and gunfire stopped, replaced with the sound of feet thudding on the hard wood floor inside.

Tony pivoted into the window frame and managed to squeeze off two rounds into a man who appeared to be fleeing the room. He watched the man fall and changed his aim to another man, but in the process, his eyes fell on what they were running from.

He barely had a moment to turn away before the blast rocked the room he had been standing outside of and the arm he threw up to protect his face and neck was peppered with the remnants of glass from the window.

The force of the blast was enough to know him to the ground.

More shouting, gunfire, and stomping from inside filtered out the empty windowsill, but he didn't notice it as he watched Ziva's face blanch as she looked in on him.

There were more shouted instructions, this time in English.

When the gunfire started again, he watched Ziva's eyes harden as anger took the place of the concern in her eyes. He would have stopped her if he could move, but she was up and away from him in a moment.

Back in place outside the window, he watched as she waited for a moment before a quick glance into the room. He felt himself coming back down from the shock and fresh pain.

As he rose slowly to a crouch, he saw pivot, aim, and fire three more rapid successions of bullets before ducking back against the wall. Before he was able to return to his position, she had popped around to fire two more barrages into the room.

Her breathing was heavy as she shifted to move again. This time, he moved with her. He double tapped one of them and watched as in the same span of time she took out two more.

They took the time they were standing against the smooth stones of the wall to scan for anyone trying to come up on either side of them. Once it was clear, they locked eyes for a brief moment before they spun back to the open window and fired on the cartel member's again.

Tony could hear the sound of gunfire dying down inside the house to the front, and he hoped it was because Gibbs and his team was able to take down the terrorists and drug cartel members, because the alternative was not something he wanted to think about.

He saw the flash of movement across the room as they were shifting out of the way again and on instinct, he tackled Ziva to the ground, out of the way of the gunfire sprayed out the window where they had been standing.

He knew from the look on her face that at least one of the bullets had hit its target. From his spot, beside her on the grass he let his eyes roan her body and saw the blood staining her tank top. It was new blood, not from the head wound earlier and sudden panic gripped him as he realized he was too late, too slow.

He stared at the blood, feeling suddenly numb. She was crying. This had to be bad. The blood was on her abdomen, her stomach, their baby. He felt fear and despair grip him like he had never felt before and met her eyes after the longest moment of wondering why her wound wasn't seeping further, why it wasn't spreading from that patch on the front of her shirt.

When his eyes finally met hers, he was shocked that there was no pain on her features, not physical pain, anyway. A look of fear and mental anguish was written on her features and she was talking to him. He knew because her mouth was moving, but he felt suddenly fuzzy and couldn't determine what she was saying.

It took a moment longer before he felt the pressure of her hands on his chest. She was pushing down on him, but he couldn't figure out why she was pushing him into the grass.

When he looked down to see her red hands across a wound near his shoulder, he lost it. The blood on her shirt was his. It wasn't her blood. He hadn't been too slow.

"Ziva," he finally spoke, pain lancing him at the effort.

"Don't talk, just stay still." She told him in what he was sure she meant to sound like her stern voice, but it came out shaky.

He ignored her. He couldn't just lie there bleeding on her hands and desperate to understand what was going on around him. "Are you hit?" he asked desperately.

Ziva's mouth opened, but nothing came out. After a second, he watched her bite her lip as tears slipped down her face, and she simply shook her head to tell him no.

"Good." He croaked out, before a sudden coughing fit gripped him.

He wondered when the gun fire had stopped as spots filtered into his line of sight slowly blacking out everything around him until all he could see was her face, so close to his.

"Please, Tony." He heard her calling to him. "Please don't do this." She begged.

"Love you." He whispered.

She moved in to kiss his lips tenderly. He didn't even mind that her tears and the blood from her head wound made the kiss slippery and left a salty metallic taste against his lips when she pulled away. "I love you, too. Please, I need you, we need you, just hang on." Her begging faded as she spoke until she was sobbing out her pleas to him.

He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but the look on her face told him that he had failed miserably.

He heard someone calling their names from what sounded far away and Ziva yelled back, but she sounded muffled, too.

"You're beautiful." He told her as he felt himself losing consciousness, he wasn't sure he'd get another chance. He never meant it more. Even leaning over him, sobbing and covered in her blood and his own, she looked like an angel. "Perfect." He added as the darkness moved more into his field of vision.

He heard her screaming at him, but couldn't make out all the words. She was calling him stubborn, stupid, brave and beautiful. Words seemed to fail her and Hebrew spewed from her lips, or perhaps he just stopped understanding her.

She began yelling at him in English again. She was telling him not to die, not to leave her, she needed him.

Just as words finally seemed to fail her, with a final sobbed plea not to die, that their son needed him, he saw Gibbs come into his field of vision. His boss' face was painted in shades of green and he was wearing a camo-green sniper's ghillie suit.

"That's an order." His boss said.

Despite how fast he felt himself slipping under, he couldn't stop himself as out of habit he croaked out, "On it, Boss."

xoxo

A/N: Wow, action is very hard to write. I hope that all made sense.

I have a three-day weekend, so I should have another chapter up soon.

Thanks for reading!


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Adrenaline and blood were coursing through his veins as the gunfire finally ceased. Tim sent the three men of his team that were still standing to canvas the rest of the house as he moved through towards the front to the sound of Gibbs and his team giving the all clear.

He found three more men wounded, but they were minor injuries. Two of them were still able to actively participate, so he sent the four men to help his three clear the house as he helped the final man who had taken a bullet in his leg.

The soldier wasn't bleeding excessively, but the location of the bullet hole and the lack of an exit wound gave McGee a pretty good understanding that it was still in his leg, probably painfully embedded in his shinbone.

By the time he reached the back door, the men had cleared the house and he set them up on guarding the perimeter as he settled the soldier on a chair outside to wait for the choppers to arrive.

"Gibbs, you copy?" he asked into his two-way radio.

"I got them. Outside, Eastside of the house, near the rear." was all he heard.

He didn't acknowledge it at first as he went back inside to move the two men from his team out with the injured man he had hauled out earlier. One of them had taken a through and through on his side. It could be a deadly wound if they didn't get him medical attention because of the possibility for sepsis from the bacteria in his intestines, which was sure to be seeping into the man's abdominal cavity.

There wasn't a huge rush, however, as stomach wounds, while severely painful, are a long and drawn out death. They would easily make it to the hospital to save him.

The soldier even managed to pull himself together enough to haul out the other fallen man who had not been so fortunate with the placement of his injury. Once the men were settled, he moved to where Gibbs said he was.

As McGee rounded the corner, he stopped as if cemented in the ground and swallowed back the lump that suddenly sprang into his throat. It took him a moment to fully interpret the scene.

Gibbs was crouched next to Ziva with a hand on her shoulder. He had never seen his boss look quite as lost as he did in that moment and Tim was certain it had to be a trick of his amped up state of mind.

As far as Tony and Ziva, if he hadn't been told that his boss was with them, he wasn't sure he would have recognized his teammates right away.

They were still wearing the same clothes he had seen them in down at the beach a while before, but their shirts were red with blood. Tony's face was pale and slack as he lay, unmoving, on the grass. Ziva's face was distorted with an expression he had never seen on her, and never wanted to see again.

The blood coursing down the woman's face from a seeping head wound did nothing to mask her anguish as she straddled Tony's stomach and held her hands firmly against a wound high on his chest. She was crying, he noted a moment later and he couldn't help but wonder if they were already too late.

He had never expected to see the two people he thought were stronger than anyone else in the world looking quite so lost. The state of their worry had him trembling and left him unwilling to move forward. If this was the end of his partner and friend, he didn't want to see him.

If that was the case, though, he couldn't figure out why Gibbs wasn't pulling Ziva away.

Finally, having taken in enough of the scene to drive him to the brink of sanity, Tm spoke, "Chopper will be her in three." He told them, glancing at his watch.

Gibbs nodded, but didn't make a move to stop Ziva or move Tony until the sound of chopper blades slicing the afternoon air filtered into the shaded side of the house.

With considerable effort, they moved their friend to the clearing in the back as the soldiers gathered and helped move the captured terrorist, cartel leader, their wounded men and the one lifeless body of their fallen comrade onto the two helicopters.

Gibbs motioned for takeoff and the choppers started North.

They had all known the risks going in.

Once started, the mission would be followed through, all the way back to the main land. Stopping for any kind of medical assistance or support in Cuba would be a death sentence for all. They held out hope for the wounded, as the more serious injuries were tended with the basic supplies on hand.

Ziva's voice was raw as if she had been screaming and crying for hours, but she didn't stop talking in a low hushed tone to Tony as she applied pressure to his wound for the flight.

His eyes never opened and Tim was tempted to tell her that Tony couldn't hear her anymore, but he stopped himself, because he knew if he were in the same situation he would be hoping and praying that somehow, someway, words would filter through and things could be said one last time.

He couldn't hear what she was saying with her face so close to Tony's and her tone so soft, but after several minutes she let out a loud sob. She seemed to compose herself after that, as if realizing she was in a helicopter with other people, her friends and some strangers watching her as she fell apart.

Part of McGee didn't think he should be watching this. Something about the moment seemed so private and intimate and he felt like he was intruding on it, but he couldn't tear his eyes away.

The helicopter ride took less than twenty minutes, but it felt like an eternity before the pilot was radioing the hospital for authorization to land on their helipad and giving details on what to expect when they arrived.

As their helicopter, with the injured aboard, headed for the hospital, the other chopper split off to take their prisoners to a military facility for interrogation and possible future imprisonment in a detention facility. The soldier from Tim's team who hadn't survived the assault was also aboard the other chopper,

Medical staff had already gathered on the helipad by the time they touched down. Tony was the first one to be checked and loaded onto a stretcher. Gibbs had to hold Ziva back while the medical staff pried him from her and didn't release her until they had started rolling the gurney inside.

A second gurney was loaded with the soldier who took a bullet in the stomach. The man with the leg wound was taken inside on a wheelchair and the other soldiers with minor injuries walked in under their own steam.

Gibbs shared a look with McGee, and Tim knew that he was going to be holding the fort here at the hospital and answering the endless questions that would face him from the doctors.

Gibbs had an interrogation to run.

xoxo

Ziva swung her legs absently in the vacant space beneath the exam table she had been sitting on for over half an hour. Her eyes kept straying to the clock on the wall and she wondered how long she would have to wait.

She had been ushered into an emergency room the moment she walked through the door, despite her protests. The wound on her head had been cleaned and prepped for stitches, but the emergency room was busy with the normal traffic of injuries and the men they had come in with. Once her wound was cleaned, the nurse had adhered a gauze bandage to her head with medical tape and told her someone would be in as soon as possible to close the wound.

That had been so long ago that she wondered several times over the last half hour if they had forgotten about her. She wished she could forget as easily as they seemed to.

There were still signs of his blood on her hands, though she had washed them on arrival at the hospital. Looking at the dried bits under her nails and clinging stubbornly to her cuticle walls, she felt nauseous.

Moving to the sink in the corner of the small exam room, she started to scrub her hands more thoroughly and with a vigor and water temperature that left her quaking fingers raw and red.

As she dried her hands with the course paper towels, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror, shocked at her features and nearly did not recognize herself. Grief, it seems, does strange things to a person. She pondered that for a moment as she stared at her reflection.

The bandage near her hairline over her right eye was starting to show red as blood from the wound began to seep through the final layers of gauze.

Glancing away from herself, her eyes fell on the small metal table that reflected back at her from the corner of the mirror. Settling on a plan of action, she felt her body become tranquil and calm, her shaking fingers stopped trembling and the haze over her brain seemed to dissipate.

Moving with renewed purpose, Ziva approached the small table where the nurse had laid out supplies earlier and gathered the items she would need. She placed them all on a small, sanitized tray that was on the pedestal and moved back to the mirror and the sink.

Laying the tray on the edge of the counter, Ziva glanced at her reflection again and then moved to pull away the bandage. The bleeding from her wound had slowed considerably and she was glad to see that she would not have blood dripping into her eyes.

With a few deft movements, she had cleared away the new blood from her injury and grabbing the appropriate suture need she blew out a long shaky breath before she began the careful process of sliding the needle through each side of the gash on her head, tying a surgical knot, snipping off the excess. After the first stitch, she felt more confident and the others followed easily.

She could probably have used a local anesthetic to numb the pain, but the numbness she felt seemed to run bone deep and the prick of the needle and pull of the thread served as a relief against the nothingness that had been her existence in this tiny room.

It took only eight stitches for her to close to wound to her satisfaction. Just as she was reaching up to cut the excess off the final stitch, the door to her room opened and a nurse strode inside. The young man, who didn't look old enough to be out of high school, much less through nursing classes, stopped dead in his tracks and stared at her with a slack jaw.

The nurse did not appear inclined to speak, so after a cursory glance, Ziva set about cleaning the area around the wound she had just closed. As she tore off a strip of medical tape and began covering the stitches with a gauze pad, the nurse seemed to finally snap out of it.

"You can't do that. Stop." He sounded confused and Ziva couldn't help but think how strange it must be for him to walk in on someone doing this kind of repair to themselves. If the man had only know the type of combat medicine and self-repair she had performed, he would not be staring at her as if she had three heads.

"It is done." She responded simply, thought she lowered her hands before the gauze was fastened so the nurse could examine the sutures.

After he poked around her wound and lectured her on proper behavior in a hospital, he stepped back with an odd smile on his face, "You did a nice job, though." He told her with a hint of admiration in his voice.

He quickly had the gauze pad in place and taped tightly against the wound.

Once he was done and had finished staring at her with awe, he seemed to remember something and grabbed the chart he had brought in with him earlier. "We have some of your tests back."

Ziva just nodded, she knew what was coming, so at least it was not a shock to her when the nurse confirmed her pregnancy. He also spoke on her injuries, but Ziva was not interested in hearing about herself and cut him off, "Did you find out about my husband?" she asked. The last nurse to come in had told her she would find out.

The last word Ziva had gotten was that he was still in surgery, but that had been only because she refused to let them clean her wound until they told her what was going on with him.

"Darlene wanted me to tell you that he's still in surgery." The man replied and Ziva simply nodded briefly in response, so he continued. "I wanted to talk to you briefly about some of your medical records and statements on injury."

"You are aware that our mission was classified under the seal of the president of the United States and I am not at liberty to discuss specifics?" she inquired, wondering when her voice had developed that particularly bitchy tone.

"Yes. That has been made more than clear to everyone on staff tonight." He responded, a little bitterness at being limited in his job shining through. "I just wanted to get specifics on the injuries you sustained and the. . ." he trailed off as he glanced at the chart, flipping a page before finding what he needed, "It says here you were exposed to a strong sedative."

Ziva nodded. She knew the questions she wanted to ask, but they were not coming to her.

"I wanted to be the first to warn you of what may happen due to the importance of development during the first trimester." He was going to give her the answers without her even having to ask. "There are some possible side effects of psychotropic drugs on an embryo. While your child is only about the size of a sesame seed right now, the baby's neurological system is rapidly developing at this stage."

Ziva wasn't sure she wanted to hear anything he was about to say, but she couldn't stop him even if she wanted to, and she wanted to.

"There are studies that show there is little to know possibility for damage to the unborn child, but there are other studies that show an increase in the rate of babies born with cleft lip or cleft pallet." He paused as if letting her soak in that information.

She stared at him and waited for him to continue with the list of side effects, birth defects, mental disabilities, physical deformities, but nothing came. "Is there anything else?" she asked, hopefully.

The nurse shook his head, "Nothing has been proven as statistically more likely with this type of exposure, but that does not rule out other possible effects of nature. Do not take that lightly, however, it can be a very serious issue to deal with."

"I understand. A good friend of mine is a plastic surgeon and he does those operations pro-bono all the time." She let out the pent up breath she had been holding.

The nurse nodded in understanding. "You are five weeks along and can have a 3D ultrasound to diagnose the condition in twenty-one more weeks. You may also need an MRI to confirm the results."

Ziva nodded, relief warring in her with the worry in her. "Where do I go to wait on word for my husband when he's out of surgery?"

If the nurse was surprised by her sudden change in subject, he didn't show it. Instead, the young man gave her directions and told her he would be right back with her discharge papers and a prescription for prenatal vitamins.

He suggested she work on hydrating herself as she was showing signs of mild dehydration. With that, he left her to dress.

Surprisingly he was back in a moment, as promised.

As soon as she had the paperwork she left, dropped her prescription at the pharmacy counter in the hospital and headed upstairs to the recovery room waiting area.

She spotted McGee as soon as she walked through the door. He was sitting on the edge of a chair in the waiting room with his head in his hands. She could see nothing but his tactical uniform and the top of his head, but she could tell by his posture that he was past the point of being worried and fully immersed in distress.

Having been there just a short time ago, she wondered if she should leave him to process it alone as she had in the emergency room. She had the sudden thought that, unlike her, McGee had a soft heart he wore for the world to see. He was more willing than she to reach out for comfort.

Swallowing her own reservations as she drew nearer to him, she spoke, "Tim," his eyes drifted up to hers and suddenly she couldn't find the words to reassure him as she had planned to.

He was out of his seat in a moment, closing the two steps of distance left between them and pulling her into him. It was an odd sensation. Unlike Tony, he was small and his hand brushing across her hair was tentative and awkward. "He's still in surgery." Was all he said and after a moment she was returning the gesture, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face against his thin neck.

She felt Tim relax in her embrace and wondered if he had initiated the gesture because he needed the comfort more than an attempt to comfort her, but as tears burned behind her eyes again, she didn't care why he had started it. Burying her face from view, she felt the skin of his neck become slick against her face from the tears slipping out of her eyes.

Ziva wondered how much of this emotional rollercoaster was a result of her newly heightened hormone levels. She wondered how much was related to the burning fear that had burrowed into her chest and taken up residence there from the moment Tony took that bullet for her.

When she felt him calm as her tears dried, she pulled away from him and led him back to the row of chairs against the wall.

They waited there, hands clasped tightly, as if holding to each other they would be able to will Tony to make it through this. After several minutes, she let her head rest against his shoulder, trying to seek comfort, but only succeeding in reminding her how perfectly she and Tony fit together.

Unlike the man beside her, Tony's tone figure was not so bony and uncomfortable. Despite the issue of the bone under skin jabbing into her temple, the day's events and stress, the lack of sleep the night before, she felt her eyes close against the harsh light of the waiting room and before she even realized it, she was sleeping fitfully.

xoxo

A/N: This chapter brought to you more quickly thanks to reviews by ChEmMiE who said I'm 'Eeeeeeeeevviiiiillllllll!' and need to 'update IMMEDIATELY' and BeautyOfTheDar-KLM who said they would be sitting there 'refreshing the page until the update turns up'.


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter 44

It was after two AM when Gibbs and his grey mood swept into the hospital. He'd received two calls while he was wading through the red tape and lectures, pointless interrogation and pats on the back. He hadn't been able to answer either call.

The first voicemail let him know Ziva was all right and Tony was in surgery. The second indicated Tony was out of surgery and provided his room number in the intensive care unit. Neither message provided details and the tone of Ziva's voice was calm and professional.

Her tone had been what haunted him as he finished the work he needed to get done, the briefings with the department of defense, and being told more times than he could have counted that the mission never happened.

He had heard her talking to his senior agent as he lay bleeding; heard her begging him to hang on for her, for their son.

He knew her words could have been taken as some kind of hypothetical future view, something they had discussed the way Tim and Abby had already named their future daughter. He also knew they weren't.

Her tone, so professional and vague on the message had been such an abrupt change from the overwrought emotion she had on location or in the chopper. It had left him more worried about DiNozzo than he had been before the call.

Strolling purposefully into the hospital, he bypassed the front desk area and headed towards a bank of elevators. Having the room number already, he didn't have to stop to figure it out.

Once he was in the ICU, however, he had to wait to be let into the area. He was buzzed in by a nurse and as he moved through the doors, she asked if she could help him.

"Anthony DiNozzo." He said simply.

The woman nodded as she pointed towards a room down the hall. "They are expecting you."

Gibbs gave her a funny look, but she didn't provide any further insight.

He steeled himself for whatever horrors he was about to witness. He had seen the wound; he had seen the man lying motionless. He had seen the panic in Ziva's face and all the blood that poured out through her fingers on Tony's chest. He had no expectations upon opening this door and stepping to the other side of the curtain.

Taking a breath, he finally moved into the room.

He almost smiled at the sight of Tim sprawled, sleeping in what looked to be an uncomfortable position in a chair and Ziva carefully curled up next to Tony on the hospital bed, lying on her side with her head on his pillow and his hand lightly grasped in her own. Then his eyes fell on the man who had brought them all here.

Tony looked as pale as he had on the well-manicured grass where Gibbs had found him and Ziva. The machines and various tubes leading into him gave the impression that this was going to be a long-term visit.

His eyes fell on the respirator hooked to him and felt a moment of fear that his agent was not yet breathing on his own. The position of the wound indicated that the bullet likely tore through his lung. The fact that he didn't suffocate on his own blood before they could get him to the hospital was a miracle.

The fact that the man was breathing at all was a good indication that surgery had gone well, but a wound like that could have lasting repercussions or result in complications that meant he was not out of the woods yet. The longer he needed the respirator to breath for him, the worse this could become.

Gibbs took a sudden interest in the floor as his mind swam with thoughts and he enjoyed the moment of solitude to regroup. It was several minutes of focusing on his breathing and steadying himself before he felt composed enough, to shift his focus back up.

He allowed himself to shift his gaze back to the man who had been the center of his worry on the entire trip to the hospital.

He was surprised when tired eyes met his.

Ziva had woken and she was looking over her shoulder at him. When he finally met her eyes, she disentangled her hand from Tony's and carefully slipped out of bed.

"You don't have to. . ." he started quietly, but she shook her head at him as she stood and stretched, obviously sore from the position she had been sleeping in.

"He should be ok." She started, following his lead and whispering to prevent waking the other agent in the room. Gibbs was certain they wouldn't wake Tony if they were shouting. He didn't miss the hint of doubt and fear still in her features, so he simply nodded as she took a shaky breath and continued, "About what happened back there."

It was his turn to interrupt the start of her sentence. "We don't have to talk about that right now." He said and watched a bit of the tension slip away from her.

"I know." She shifted her eyes off him to look between Tony and Tim before gesturing for Gibbs to follow her out of the room.

Once in the hallway, she started walking away from Tony's room, "They have one of those machines with bad coffee down the hall." She told him as they headed off.

Once they purchased the bitter drinks, she led him to a waiting area, gestured for him to sit in one of the chairs as she sat beside him. "I know what you must be thinking, and all I can say is that I am sorry and we did not intend for this to happen." She told him finally.

"Ziver," the nickname slipped out with the wrenching in his chest. She actually thought he was going to be mad at her or disapprove and it bothered him that her experiences in life have brought her to a place where she expected the negative first. "Don't ever apologize for this. This is something that is supposed to be a gift. The only worries you should have are about what you two think, not what anyone else thinks. Even if that 'anyone else' includes me."

She gave him a weak smile, "It is a gift."

Gibbs swallowed, certain his agents weren't so stupid as to go through with an op while attending pre-natal meetings, as he thought about ultrasounds, and determining the sex of the baby. "You said it was a boy?" he asked because it was the only lead in he could find that wouldn't sound accusatory.

Ziva shook her head, "We do not know, will not know for a while yet." He raised his eyebrow at her and she gave him a half-hearted smile, "We did not know for sure until they ran some tests down in emergency."

Gibbs nodded, finally understanding. "When did you start thinking you might be?"

"After they had us on the plane." She responded, dropping her eyes from his and he saw, for just a moment, what they must have gone through flying blind into that situation with the fresh knowledge of a new life weighing on them.

He stood and pulled her to him, holding her gently and offering comfort where he could, "I'm sorry you had to go through it like that. Finding out should be memorable for the right reasons, not because you're scared for your life."

Ziva nodded and then pulled away, "The sedative," she started and his breath caught in his throat as the implications of what he had done to her, "in case you were wondering, the doctor said the baby should be fine."

He swallowed around the relief that swelled in his chest, but then one word jumped out at him, "'Should'?" he asked quietly, not sure on the answer.

Ziva nodded. "There is a chance there could be problems, but nothing that cannot be overcome."

"Is there something you're not telling me?" he knew there was, but whether she would tell him or not was up to her.

"There is a test they can do at twenty-six weeks to determine if there will be complications." she finally said quietly, but then stepped back to him and he held her quietly in the deserted hospital waiting area.

"I'm so sorry, Ziva." He finally said, because there was nothing else that he could think to say. Even that was weak as he considered the potential impact that his mistake could have had on their lives.

Her sudden laughter broke him out of his own thoughts and he pulled back to look on her face, moist with tears, but a watery smile on her face. "You are breaking your own rules." She teased him lightly.

"Yeah, well," he replied, "I figured, since everyone else already threw out the rule book, that I may as well join the 'in crowd'."

He watched the transformation as she battled to fight back whatever thoughts were warring in her head. He watched the expression go blank on her face as she tramped down thoughts, to the point of taking a physical step away from him to regain herself.

Ziva cleared her throat, "How did it go with Ramon and Abdur Rashid?" she asked, swiping her eyes with her sleeve.

Gibbs just shook his head, "We didn't get much out of them, but because we have a name, we were able to work with what we already had on the terrorist groups. They're running a kill or capture op on foreign soil and in Florida. They should be able to sweep up enough of the pieces between the terrorists and drug cartel to stifle their potential to act in this way again."

Ziva nodded and threw away her still full coffee cup. "I want to be there if he wakes up." She said simply as she headed back where they had come from.

xoxo

Three days, which felt like three months, she stayed in the hospital with him.

She didn't notice time passing. She was only vaguely aware of the others who came and went. It filtered through her haze that Abby had returned, though she had not been aware that the woman had ever left.

Seeing Abby back in her own clothes, had provided a moment of light in the otherwise steady darkness that had taken her mind since the moment Tony fell. The good times never seemed to hold her for long.

She talked to him for hours, knowing he would probably never know what she had said, not caring who passed in and out while she spoke. She ate when one of the others put something in her hand, but she didn't taste the food or drinks they gave her. Swallowed them, without conscious effort or thought.

Every day that he didn't wake up the doctors' expressions changed. She could see they were losing hope in him waking up in time. She wouldn't let their negativity weigh on her. She wouldn't let it bring her down.

They still had four days and she was painfully aware of the procrastinator that was Anthony DiNozzo. He would probably wait until the last minute to come back around to doing things on his own.

She would have smiled at the silliness of Tony choosing to stay on a respiratory because he was just putting off having to do things on his own again, but the thought of being nearly halfway through the week had her eyes fogging instead of her lips lifting in a smile.

For years, she had been of the same mindset as Tony. She did not want to be kept alive on machines. She did not want to live on if there was nothing to live for. Now, however, she hated the fact that Tony had a living will that said he would only allow machines to keep his body alive for seven days.

When he woke up, because she had to believe it was a 'when' and not an 'if' or she would lose her mind, she was going to push him to change that. What if it took eight days or twelve? Seven days is too short a time to allow a body to properly heal from an injury like this.

The hospital was legally bound to uphold his wishes and she found herself returning to the thought and hope that it would be enough time.

For the first time in days, Ziva let her eyes travel to the clock on the wall to notice that it was after midnight. Glancing around the room, she noticed that at some point Tim and Abby must have left. The two of them had been in and out the entire time, but after the first night, they had left the spots for visitors to stay overnight with Tony open for her and Gibbs.

She was surprised that Gibbs was there as often as he had been. She knew that the man cared for his team, more than he normally let on, but she still expected that he would take a break every now and then for longer than grabbing a shower or a coffee.

Standing and stretching, with that thought in mind, she was suddenly surprised by the overwhelming desire to throw up.

In moments, she was collapsed on her knees in the attached bathroom, hands clasped against the edge of the toilet as she lost what little she had been able to force down this evening.

She didn't hear the door, but felt his presence behind her. Gibbs rubbed her back and murmured to her. She didn't catch a word he said as she emptied the sparse contents of her stomach.

Ziva didn't realize she was crying until she was finished and Gibbs pulled her to him. Somehow, he had managed to seat himself beside her in the cramped bathroom. When she rocked away from the toilet he gathered her onto his lap like a child and rocked her gently, whispering into her hair about how everything was going to be ok and tucking her head into his shoulder.

The act was supposed to be comforting, she knew, but his kindness, this gesture of comfort just made her sob harder. The thought that Tony was already missing parts of their pregnancy, though granted, the parts she would rather miss herself, made everything seem so much more real.

"I can't do this alone, Gibbs." She finally said, but he didn't acknowledge her at first, continuing to rock her silently.

When he spoke, she heard the waver in his voice and felt the urge to do something to comfort him as well, but she did not have the energy. "You're not alone, Ziva."

"What if. . ."

"Stop." His voice was suddenly much stronger, "Don't you write him off just yet. He is the most stubborn man I have ever met. No matter how soft he can be, no matter the heart he wears on his sleeve, you know as well as I do that he is a strong man. If anyone can do this, he can."

"I know I am not alone," she couldn't stop the ragged sob that interrupted her next breath. "But, I do not think I am strong enough to do this without him."

xoxo

A/N: My sister thinks I'm pregnant again, because I was sitting in her living room, writing this last scene and bawling like a big baby. It's a running joke for us, and it cracks her up that I am all emotionally invested in the characters.

Sometimes, it makes me feel like a loon, but oh well. That's the beauty of not knowing where a story is going until you get there. It's like reading a book that way and sometimes this stuff just sneaks up on me.


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter 45

Abby tried, she really did. Ziva was being so strong, but she was a ghost of herself and Abby could see the pain haunting the features of her friend every day.

She managed, just barely, to keep it together in the hospital.

After that first day when Ziva comforted her on arrival, she had felt a hint of shame at her weakness. She should have been the one helping her friend through this, but instead she was wallowing herself.

She was determined not to let Ziva down again. Therefore, though it was more in her nature to maintain the quiet vigil that Ziva and Gibbs were keeping, she found herself spending time pacing in the hotel room. She could cry with Tim, he would hold her and whisper and hold her, tell her all the things she already knew.

She knew Tony was strong, he was a fighter and he was not a quitter at anything in life. She knew, but every day it got harder. Today, she hadn't even wanted to get out of bed.

Tim held her while she cried until she felt weak and exhausted. Cried until she didn't think she had anything left and then he shooed her off to take a shower before they headed back to the hospital.

She knew he was trying to be strong for her, because one of them had to be, so she pretended not to notice his own tears begging for freedom from his eyes or that husky tone he had that told her he was fighting a losing battle with them today. Instead, she kissed his cheek and did as he had instructed.

The warmth of the shower on her skin didn't register as she numbly went about cleaning up, trying to eliminate the evidence of how her morning had been spent. She knew there would be no hiding the puffy eyes, or how bloodshot they had to be, but she knew Ziva would understand.

It was several minutes later before Tim climbed in to join her. Abby had a moment of wondering how odd it was that they washed each other, but there was no sexual component to their showering today.

It was as if each knew the other needed someone to take care of them for just a few quiet minutes longer.

As he spun her to face the spray of the water and began to wash her back from her shoulders to her feet, Abby hung her head and watched the water cascade around her to fall, sporadically, from her hair to the tub with a sound like beating drums. She allowed her mind to wander to how she might handle things if today ended the same way it had begun with a seemingly endless see of tears.

She knew this was not what Tony wanted, not really. She knew that if they just had a few more days, Tony would wake up on his own and they would start to put the pieces back together.

Instead, that stubborn and stupid man, had looked at himself, his love for sports, for experiencing life, for being active, vibrant, and full of life, and decided a week was long enough to live on a machine. Sometimes a week wasn't long enough for a body to heal, but because he had that damn paper in his medical file, there was nothing they could do.

Today was the last day a machine would breathe for him. If he didn't breathe for himself, he never would again. He never would, and she was worried for what would happen with Ziva. She knew they would band together, she knew Ziva had to be aware of it as well, but none of it matter. She knew that if she were in Ziva's shoes, it wouldn't matter who was there, her mind would always be on who wasn't.

Tim spun her and rinsed the soap from her body, before carefully helping her out of the shower and toweling her off.

When they arrived at the hospital, they found Gibbs pacing anxiously in the hallway. McGee handed him a tall coffee and, though he accepted it with a courtesy 'thanks', it remained in his hand without him taking a drink as he stopped pacing and leaned awkwardly against the wall outside Tony's room.

"Give her a minute." He told Abby as she reached for the door.

xoxo

Tony could hear her speaking to him. She had been talking so much he was certain he was dreaming. He didn't know how long he had been lying here, unable to open his eyes as she rambled on about everything.

He was surprised at how thoroughly she planned things out, though when he tried to wrap his fuzzy recollection around what had been transpiring around him, he seemed to recall hearing this story before. Bits and pieces filtered through, but she seemed to elaborate on it each time she told him about the future.

He liked hearing her talk about the future.

"I was thinking about taking them on vacation when they're older." She always spoke in terms of 'them', not him or her as she talked of the baby inside her.

He had come to realize that she was making sure he understood that he was going to be giving her another baby someday and the way she said it, he was certain to comply with her wishes, hell, he'd be happy to.

"I saw a billboard for a place North of here called Disney World. Apparently, they have rides and games and even fireworks, not just on the fourth of July, either, every day." She sighed, and he could hear the sadness in her voice as she spoke of things that she obviously thought would never actually happen.

If he could open his eyes, open his mouth, he would probably laugh at the fact that she didn't know about Disney World. Then he'd chastise her for thinking he wouldn't take her and the kids there if that were what she wanted. Then he'd make her promise never to use that tone again, because he felt like his heart was breaking right along with hers.

"We could ride the rides and eat cotton candy." He heard the hitch in her voice. "Do all the things that a real family does without lies and deception. Without hurt or anger."

There was that damn sound again; it was driving him insane.

The sound of Ziva taking a ragged breath that he knew before it happened would end in a tiny sob. He wished he could reach out to her, but as he tried, he felt the familiar frustration that had been swamping him as his body refused to respond to his mind. His eyes refused to open, his hand lay limply in her grasp.

If he could just squeeze her fingers, maybe that would be enough, but even as he shifted his full focus and his entire being into the action, he couldn't make it happen.

He heard her breath steady just a bit and knew she was calming herself so she could continue talking to him.

It had become a pattern, but one that made him feel sick. That she had to comfort herself right now when he should be there for her, when she needed him most made him wish he were capable of tears. At least then, perhaps, he'd be able to get out some of the pent up emotion that felt as if it were drowning him.

"I can't do this without you, Tony." She finally responded and he realized that she hadn't stopped herself crying this time. He wondered why she sounded so certain that something was going to happen. "I know there are people who will help me through, people who will be there for our baby, and I feel so selfish and ungrateful that I don't want any of it. I just want you."

He heard her choke back more sobs and then the sound of feet rushing away from him. She was running again and he wanted nothing more than to chase her.

Silence engulfed him, but after a moment, he felt a hand grab his. It was small and soft, much like Ziva's had been, but this was not her hand. He barely heard Abby speaking to him as his mind raced trying to explain this shift in Ziva.

She had been so optimistic. She had been so positive and bright for the future. Now she was crying and he wished someone would tell him what the hell was going on. Did something happen? Did the doctors tell her that he wasn't going to make it? He wanted to scream, but nothing came out.

If he was going to die, he wanted to see her face one more time. He tried to force his eyes open, force his mouth to cry out the injustice he felt, force his body to react, but nothing came. Nothing happened and he just hoped it would not be too late.

Suddenly, he realized that Tim was in the room with him. Something he said caught Tony's attention, but he had been so focused he nearly missed it. Trying to play it back in his head, he started to make sense of what was going on around him.

That damn living will. That damn paper that said seven days of life support. He couldn't believe that the snippets of life and bits of conversation he had been privy too would make up the span of an entire week, but if what Tim was saying was true, today they were pulling the plug.

The fear that gripped him was like nothing he had ever felt before. They weren't willing to give up on him, but he had given up on himself. He had signed that damn paper thinking it was for the best. No one should have to take care of him if anything really bad happened. He would never want to go on living if he had to rely on machines.

When he signed that paper, he had been picturing a scene probably just like he was in now. He pictured a machine breathing for him, another feeding him, maybe making his heart beat and all the while he wasted away into nothing. Brain dead, completely unaware.

However, that wasn't what was happening. He was trapped inside himself, unable to beg them to change his papers, wishing he could go back and change his mind. He would live fifty years trapped inside himself, unable to talk, move, or see a thing, if it meant he could hear her voice. If it meant she could describe all the things their baby was doing. If it meant he could feel her lying with him as she had been doing, touching his face or holding his hand.

He felt that urge to cry again, but nothing changed. It was as if his brain and body were completely disconnected and nothing he thought seemed to translate into action.

He heard Tim usher Abby out and the silence enveloped him again.

He didn't hear the footsteps, but after a moment, he felt a calloused hand lightly grab hold of his own. He didn't know this touch; it wasn't Tim's soft hands or Abby and Ziva's small smooth ones. It wasn't his father, because he hadn't heard that he was even there, and that man's hands were smooth from never working a day of physical labor in his life.

Some part of him thought briefly it must be Gibbs, but his boss didn't strike him as a hand holding kind of guy. Perhaps it was Ducky. He decided there was no use guessing and allowed his mind to float as he waited for the stranger to speak.

As he lay there, thinking of what was to come; Tony didn't think he could be any more upset than he was at that moment, thinking back on his decision for a living will, and thinking ahead for the moment when everything would stop.

Then the stranger spoke and it was not a stranger at all. His words floated through to Tony and the younger man felt a fresh wave of emotion, fear, trepidation, determination warring in him like a hurricane, battering his emotions like a shack on the ocean shore when the storm rolls in.

"Ziva said to talk to you. She thinks you can hear us." Gibbs began, his voice low and steady, "I don't know about all that, but if there's a chance it helps, I'll talk."

Tony would have laughed at his boss, if he could, because as soon as those words were through, the man fell silent again.

It seemed like ages, though Tony knew his sense of time was off, before Gibbs spoke again. Tony would not have recognized the man's voice if he had started in that strained whisper that left Tony wondering if the older man was crying, or fighting hard against it.

"When I lost Shannon and Kelly," he began, and Tony was suddenly glad he couldn't see his boss' face as he heard the anguish in the man's voice, "I thought I would die right there with them. I almost let myself, but then I found a purpose." He cleared his throat as if that would help him continue, "You have to understand that you've given that purpose to Ziva. She was as lost as I ever was before you showed her that she was enough all by herself, that the past is the past and it may have shaped us, but it does not define us."

He heard the man's voice strengthen as he got control of himself through steadying breaths. "If you quit now, she's going to fall. You know she's strong, you know she'll get back up again, but she will suffer while she does it, and nothing will ever be the same."

Gibbs squeezed his hand with a little more strength, "You have to fight, Tony, like you have never fought before. Fight for her. Fight for that baby." His boss let out a sigh, "Hell, son, fight for me, because as much as I miss my little girl, and would give anything for another shot at family, this isn't the way."

Gibbs laughed, but there was no humor in the bark of noise, though Tony could hear he was trying to step away from the intensity of the moment. "Do you know what we would do to the poor child without you here to stay on top of things? McGee would have the kid on some computer game before he's five, learning the ways of elf-lords and Jedi's or whatever. Abby would probably have him tattooed and pierced by the time he's ten."

Gibbs sighed again and Tony knew he was struggling, "As for me, you of all people, know what a stubborn pain in the ass I can be." He pulled in a shaky breath, "You know we'll watch out for them, but it's not right."

Tony lay there, wishing he could respond to the heartfelt words everyone had been heaping on him, but unable to make his body comply.

He didn't know how long Gibbs sat silently by his side, but the quiet was reassuring. He took solace in the contact and the words from his boss, at the same time he was frightened by what the gesture must mean to his prognosis.

At some point, noise filtered back in and he realized he must have faded out again. He could tell by the quiet shuffling and the unrecognizable male voice standing near him, that it was time.

He wasn't ready, he wanted to tell them all so much, wanted to beg them to stop the doctor, but there was nothing he could do.

Ziva leaned down and whispered against his ear. "I love you, Motek. I believe you can do this."

They were the last words he heard before the doctor did something that took away the steady 'whir, whoosh' sound that had kept him company in the quiet times.

He heard his friends, so close and seeming so far away, take a collective inhalation of air, as if they were preparing to hold their breath along with him. As if they were little kids ready to throw a tantrum, threatening to hold their breath until they got what they wanted from their parents.

He felt the pressure first, and then panic set in as the pressure inside his chest increased and the rhythmic beeping of his heart monitor that had been so steady began to speed up. The weight on his chest made him wish he could scream for the tube to be replaced, the machine to be turned back on.

The sound of a sob cut through all his thoughts as he heard Ziva next to him again. He couldn't believe he was putting her through this, all because of some selfish desire not to wither away in a hospital bed.

He couldn't have said how long they stayed like that, but after a while, he wondered why he was still feeling the intense pressure. Why he hadn't seen a light or heard angels singing, or felt the flames of hell, for that matter.

All he felt was that damn pressure in his chest and fingers squeezing tightly to his hand, before it became clear.

He felt his chest rise and fall, he was breathing without the respirator.

He wished he could smile or breathe a sigh of relief, but he brushed it off to embrace the knowledge that he was still in the fight


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter 46

Two days later, when Tony finally woke up, it was nothing like the awakening that everyone had been anticipating. There was no shouting with joy from the people gathered in his room. There wasn't a joke or movie reference from the man who had been reserving comment, without his consent, for over a week. There were no happy tears or loud gasp of excitement. He wasn't startled awake with an intake of breath as if being reborn.

Tony simply opened his eyes.

He had been lulled by the comfort of the sounds of early morning accompanied by the rhythmic heart monitor beeping next to him. Occasionally, he heard lighthearted banter from across the room as Tim and Abby debated the finer points of first person shooter games. All the while, Ziva spoke softly next to him as if muffled.

He thought he was dreaming again as his eyes came open and he shifted them to the side to see Ziva sitting beside him with her head bowed down against the bed. He let his eyes slip off her to scan the room. Abby was in Tim's lap as they worked together on McGee's laptop, from the muffled sounds emanating from their direction, he was certain they were playing some kind of shooting game.

What shocked him was Gibbs lounging casually on a loveseat against the wall. He didn't seem bothered by the blatant sign of affection between Tim and Abby, but as he thought about it, that made sense considering they weren't at work and it had been one hell of a case.

As shocking as that realization was, Tony wasn't prepared for the surprise when he finally realized what Gibbs was doing. Their boss had someone's iPhone in his hands and his thumbs were quickly flying over the touch screen, tapping away. After a moment, he watched the corner of his mouth tilt up and then Abby and Tim groaned in unison.

"Come on, Gibbs, you're killing us here." Abby whined, but shot a smile at the older man.

He simply shrugged at her and ducked back into the game he was obviously playing against them, "Isn't that the point?"

Tony thought he might be smiling at the sight of Gibbs kicking Abby and McGee's butts in a video game, but he hadn't moved anything but his eyes, so he wasn't sure if he was actually able to do that. He brought his focus back to Ziva, well, the top of her head against the side of his bed, and focused intently on his new, self-imposed, mission.

Very slowly, he felt the world shift as he rolled his head slightly to the side where she was laying. She didn't look up, but her voice was level and soothing as she continued to talk. She was speaking to him in Hebrew. She had been doing that a lot and while he didn't understand most of what she was saying, it had calmed him.

He didn't know how long they could stay like this as he waited for her to look up. After so long of being able to hear her and not see her, he was not feeling very patient at the moment. However, he wasn't sure he could do anything besides stare. There was only one way to find out.

"Hi." Tony croaked. He smiled when her head shot up in surprise, despite the discomfort that talking caused.

Finally, he was able to see her eyes shining at him and he felt whole for the first time in so long. She looked pale and thin with dark circles under her eyes. He found it odd that she could have changed so much in such a short time, though as he thought about it he wasn't sure exactly how long it had been since the respirator was turned off.

He drank her in; even exhausted and pale she was beautiful. The smile that lit her face on seeing him awake was enough ease the painful feeling of pressure in his chest as he noticed movement that must have been the others gathering around his bedside, but he couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Hi." She finally responded, sounding breathless at the sight of him awake in front of her. Tears gathered in her eyes and he watched, as she didn't even try to push them away. At least they were tears of joy this time.

"Don't cry." he squeaked out with a sadness saturating his strained tone, despite his knowledge that they were happy tears. He didn't want to see her cry anymore. He had heard too much of it while he was unable to respond. Tony reached his hand up to brush one of her tears off her cheek.

She beamed at him and the sadness he felt melted away with the full realization that she was crying for something good this time, so happy that her body's instinctive reaction was to find a release for the emotions flooding her. "Love you." He managed, though the words caused him a nearly full body wince as they burned out of his dry, ragged throat.

A hand gently brushing the hair off his forehead brought his gaze up from her face to see Gibbs standing beside Ziva with a hint of a smile and something that looked like pride in his eyes.

"That's good work, DiNozzo." His boss whispered as he pulled his hand back for a moment before he reached across Ziva, holding a small plastic cup with a straw in it. He held the glass for Tony to have a drink and he didn't think he had ever tasted anything better than this lukewarm water.

Tony took a tentative sip and then winced as the pain of swallowing hit him, after the sip was down, it felt better and he went back for another with only slightly better results. Tony tried to speak again, but found his throat sore and still dry, the sound more like a quiet squeak than anything resembling speech.

Gibbs shushed him as he withdrew the cup again. "I'm going to get the nurse." He said and was gone a moment later.

Ziva didn't seem surprised that he was in pain, considering he'd had a tube down his throat for a week and hadn't had a thing to drink in even longer than that, he supposed he wasn't too shocked either. "Do not try to talk." She told him simply, "You were on a respirator for a week; you have been unconscious for ten days."

A peaceful quiet settled over them again as they each sought solace in the other's eyes and shared a smile. A moment later, Tony felt the weight of McGee's laptop as it was gently placed low on his abdomen. It was open to a word document and he turned to smile at Tim for the thought.

When he tried to reach the keys, he felt an intense jolt of pain in his left shoulder that made him gasp. His typing, normally slow, was excruciating with only one hand. The first thing he did was hit the caps lock button before typing out his message.

Ziva read it to the others, "He says, 'Get a lawyer', all capital with three exclamation points." She gave him a quizzical look as he continued to type. "and then, 'No more living will' after which there are a number of exclamation points that I choose not to count."

"Were you cognizant?" Abby asked, ever the scientist as she and Tim gathered closer so they could all read the screen over his shoulders.

He nodded and then clicked off the caps lock and continued typing, "Faded in and out. Aware when they turned off respirator. Thought was dying. Scary stuff." He knew the grammar was bad, knew he was dropping words left and right, but didn't care, he was finally able to talk to them and it made him impatient.

The room fell silent on the tails as one relived and the others pondered the frightening notion of being conscious to witness what could have been the final moments of their life. Just as the silence was starting to wear on Tony who had experienced too much of it, the nurse came into the room with Gibbs close behind her.

"Good to see you awake." The woman commented as Ziva moved to step back from the bed. Tony gripped her hand tighter; he didn't want to let her go. With a smile, she reassured him and slipped her hand out of his so the nurse could check him over.

The nurse checked over the sheets from his EKG and ran the temporal scanner thermometer over his forehead to take a quick reading, "You gave us all quite a scare." She told him, her voice cheery despite the early morning hour.

"Sorry." Tony croaked weakly before grimacing and gesturing towards the cup on the rolling table near his bed. The nurse passed him the glass, cautioning him to go easy. After another minute, Tony pushed it back into her hands.

"Try not to talk too much, ease into it." The nurse told him as she finished up and began heading towards the door, "Rehydrate and relax, try to get some rest." Tony nodded to acknowledge her request. "You have a bit of a fever; I'll bring you something for that and we'll need to run a few tests, but waking up is a good sign.

xoxo

By the evening, Tony had dined on a lunch of Jell-O and was preparing to be served a dinner feast of chicken broth. He could really go for some pizza and beer right about then, but he knew he wasn't supposed to push it.

They had spent an entire day trying not to make Tony laugh, but everybody had been in such high spirits that it had proved difficult. Tony was finally able to speak without wincing and he was glad to be through with the slow typing.

Abby and Tim called it a night early and Gibbs headed off with them to grab something to eat and 'sleep in a real bed for the night'.

Tony smiled at Ziva once they were alone. He was exhausted, but there were things he had to say. Things he had put off all day because he wanted to talk to her alone.

"Lay with me?" he asked once the door closed behind the others.

"I do not think you are in any condition for that, Tony." She teased.

He couldn't help the groan, "Ziva," he drew out her name and watched the teasing way he said her name cause another spring of tears to form in her eyes. "Don't remind me what I'm going to be missing out on for who knows how long."

She gave him an apologetic smile as she carefully arranged his wires and cords to climb in next to him.

He held her to his right side as she gingerly rested her head against his shoulder and her hand over his heart. "I got used to you telling me stories. I don't know if I'll be able to sleep without you talking now." He segued into his point carefully, watching her reaction.

"You will adjust." She told him, returning his teasing smile.

Tony shook his head at her, "I don't want to." He sighed, trying to find the words to explain everything he had been going through. "I want it all, all the stories, all the experiences, all that diapers and sleepless nights. I want the lawn-mowing, house cleaning and fixing leaky roofs. I want the football practice, ballet lesson and family dinners. I want to be the one you lay down with every night and the first person you see in the morning, because you're it for me, too. I want to watch the kids grow up and dote on the grandkids. I want to buy a house, give it fifty years of memories and rock in a wooden chair next to you on the porch. I want all, Ziva. I want that for us, I want it with you."

She smiled at him, blinking twin tears, that had been brimming, free from her eyes, "Me, too." She told him.

It was simple. Two words, but it was enough. More than enough, it was everything.

xEndx

A/N: Wow, I can't believe I survived that. Longest ever with more than 200 hours invested in this I hope you all enjoyed it. If you made it this far, you have quite a few hours invested too, but do me a favor and drop in a review to tell me what you think.

Consider it research for the next story I write and feel free to let me have it good or bad, because it will only help down the line. I suppose you could say your review would be like the payment for the hours of entertainment, reading brought you at the expense of my sleeping schedule and sanity, and it would be entirely appreciated. Thanks in advance.

Also, does this feel like it needs an epilogue? See how things are going at home after everything settles down? Kind of does to me, but I'm torn.

Thanks for reading and going on this adventure with me.

Until next time.

~MommaKristine


	47. Chapter 47: Epilogue

Epilogue

Gibbs was pacing the familiar halls of an unfamiliar hospital corridor. No matter where they were, all hospitals felt the same, looked the same, they even all smelled the same. This feeling, however, was nothing like the usual dread and worry that encompassed a trip to the hospital. In his experience, trips to the hospital were wrought with tension and worry with an undercurrent of hope.

This time, however, the overwhelming feeling was excitement with a little anticipation. His pacing was more to pass time than for need to burn off nervous energy. Ziva had been in the hospital since just after four the previous morning, six coffees and eight hours later they cleared the room for delivery. Two more hours and he was still waiting for news to come back.

McGee and Abby had arrived shortly after him with Ducky not far behind. Over an hour ago, Palmer had disappeared to find the cafeteria in search of a juice box and some cookies when Tony came out to ask Abby into the room with them.

Tony and Ziva wanted her to experience this with them since she had just found out she'd be going through the same thing in a few months. He had initially thought it a little odd, not only because of how private a person Ziva was, but also because this was a moment for parents. It was a private moment of joy, pain and love to be shared by the husband and wife.

As he thought over everything that had happened since that case long ago and how close his pseudo family had become after the terrorist attack on the J. Edgar Hoover building, it wasn't surprising. They had all come such a long way over that time and he couldn't be more proud of how everybody seemed to handle it.

How everything seemed to progress very naturally made him remember that familiar feeling of something that was 'meant to be' that he hadn't believed in since he lost Shannon and Kelly. It was surprising how much they had all grown over this time as marriage and babies joined the mix.

The stresses of their jobs seemed less under the newfound interpersonal connections and they grew closer in their odd little familial way. Not just emotionally, he thought as he reached the end of the hall and peaked into the nursery on the little babies wrapped in their pink and blue blankets as he thought back to when they came home from Florida.

Tony and Ziva had been in Miami far longer than expected with some minor complications in Tony's recovery. They arrived back in DC late on a Thursday night after taking three days to leisurely drive up the coast.

He had asked them to call when they got in, but they didn't head home, though he knew they had been driving for hours on the last stretch of their trip. He was surprised to find them laughing as they descended his stairs that evening, looking disheveled from the road, but otherwise in good spirits.

"Don't think that I'm not thrilled you made it back safe, but shouldn't you have headed home to get some rest?" he had asked them.

Tony gave him a grin, the full power of which Gibbs hadn't seen before he had left Tony and Ziva in Florida and flew home several weeks before. He couldn't help returning the smile as he noticed that his senior field agent no longer held a ghostly pallor and actually looked healthy in addition to being happy. "We thought we'd drop in while we're tired, hoping that you take pity on our ragged state." Tony joked and Gibbs knew there was some kind of request for a favor or something similar coming by both the seriousness behind his joking tone and the expression on both their faces.

"Well," he started, as he carefully laid out the tools he had been using and turned fully toward them. It would still take a little getting used to seeing them together as they were then, her arm around his waist, his casually over her shoulder as if it belonged there. "Get on with whatever you came to ask me, because you both look exhausted."

Instead of speaking, Ziva pulled away from Tony, her arm that had been wrapped around his back coming out to display a diamond ring on her left hand. "We will be seeing a justice of the peace next week for the legal portion and probably have a dinner party or something later on to celebrate with the team."

"You can have it here, a little barbeque or something." He had offered, knowing neither one's apartment was very well suited to having more than a couple of guests, not that his house was much better.

"That is very nice, but we will get to that in a minute." Ziva told him, sharing a brief smile with Tony before she turned slightly shy eyes his direction, "We were hoping you could be a witness to the wedding."

"Of course." He agreed immediately, but allowed himself a moment to seriously consider Ziva before he continued, "If you're really sure about this."

He watched as they exchanged a loving smile and knew that they were both misinterpreting his question. "We are very sure." Ziva responded, turning a questioning look in his direction a hint of disappointment gracing her features.

"I didn't mean about getting married, I meant about not having a real wedding. A bunch of people, with flowers and cake and everything that you dreamed of your whole life? You shouldn't rush off because you're pregnant, you may regret it someday."

Ziva actually laughed at his statement as if it were preposterous. "Gibbs," she started, her tone suddenly serious despite the levity of a moment before, "I did not dream of weddings as a girl." He felt a pang of guilt for even mentioning it when he considered the kind of childhood she had experienced. "I have no interest in a large ceremony with people I do not know very well who mean nothing to us as a couple. I do not want to even think about how many members of both our families we would not want on a guest list. I do not wish to waste money on frivolity for the sake of being frivolous." He tried to read her, but there was nothing but sincerity in her features.

"We decided that we would like our lives together to start as soon as possible." Tony added, "You know, Boss, get started on forever, right away."

They were grinning at each other and it was contagious. They really had thought this through, despite how much it would normally bother a woman for her wedding to be so basic. He knew her, and this was actually fitting. Just her close friends and a judge, simple and efficient.

"And the other thing for discussing later?" he asked and watched as their smiles faltered slightly and they exchanged a glance as if deciding who would speak first.

"We found this house. It's perfect." Tony said and the two of them alternated describing the three bedroom two bathroom house. It sounded just right for them. "The market is so bad right now that we'd be getting it at a steal and we have a little more than enough for the down payment, but there's this one potential problem."

"If it's foundation or structural, don't waste your time." He tried to interpret their reluctance, "I can look at it with you if you want."

They shared a look and then Tony broke the silence with a nervous chuckle, "It's, uh, not the house really. It's the neighborhood."

Not in the mood to talk in circles around whatever was making the both of them nervous he had finally looked the younger man straight in the eye, "Would you just spit it out already?"

Tony looked away from him a moment, his eyes darting over to meet Ziva's before he came back and caught eyes with his boss again, shoulders straight as if he had gotten courage from the brief exchange of looks with her. His words still came out in a nervous rush, "Its four houses down across the street."

It took Gibbs a moment to realize that he was talking about down the street from here. Down the street from his house and as the two waited for his reaction, he consciously kept his face blank as he contemplated the pros and cons of that thought. Not the worst option in the world and it really was a great neighborhood for raising kids. He thought it was perhaps a little selfish on his part to be excited about having them so close because then it may give him more opportunity to spend time with the growing family. He was already excited to meet the new baby and they still had half a year to get through.

When he finally spoke it wasn't the yes or no they had been expecting, "The blue one or the tan one?" there were actually three houses for sale on his block, but one was a small two bedroom, not enough room for a growing family.

"The blue one." Ziva responded, the little crinkle in her brow was endearing. Uncertainty was not a common emotion to see on her.

Gibbs nodded, "Good." He said after a moment, turning to look out the small basement window as if he could see the house, though that was impossible from this angle. "Hank Whitman lived there for almost fifty years; he took really good care of the place. That tan one has been a rental for almost the whole time I've lived here and I'd be concerned about what you might find under the surface with some of the tenants they've had."

He turned back to meet two matching shy smiles. For a couple of the strongest and most confident people he knew, this moment of quiet uncertainty and expressive shyness was something he was glad to savor.

Four weeks later they closed escrow and had Gibbs and the rest of the team there to help them move two houses to one.

They had their wedding party the same night of their house warming and while their gatherings in the past, usually at Ducky's for Thanksgiving or Christmas, had been wonderful and warm, that particular night was something special. Happiness and love was in the air for everyone to breathe and he left that night feeling ridiculously sentimental.

It had been the start of a cathartic shift in their relationships. What had been built on mutual respect and trust in the workplace morphed over time, and while nothing would ever change their pasts, their time together had helped them each heal old wounds.

He announced his plans to retire the following week to much grumbling professionally, especially from Abby, but their bonds had grown far beyond work after the deep cover assignment that almost tore their team apart. Time outside of work had become nearly as import for them all as time at work had been. He suffered a lot of pouting and purchased extra Caf-Pows, but finally Abby was placated with a standing Friday night agreement to get together for dinner.

It had quickly become a team affair and they took turns deciding the activity. Mostly they played board games he'd never heard of and talked until it was far too late.

Some days he still woke up feeling the old pains of loss and regret, but it faded more easily with the trappings of his odd little adoptive family. He was still surprised some days to feel actual happiness and contentment again. Like the day he walked Abby down the aisle and gave her to Tim.

Since losing his family he had thrown himself into his work. He never thought he could be happy unless he was at the office, chasing leads, catching bad guys. Actually deciding to retire had been a tough choice, but the days since had been far more full of the real meaning of life, full of joy and laughter, family and friends and friends that became a family.

Today was no exception as he found himself staring into a nursery waiting for news on his new grandchild.

Tony and Ziva had asked him once, not long after they bought the house, what he preferred to be called. He hadn't understood them until Tony started listing terms for a grandfather. When it clicked how much they wanted him to be a part of their family he'd been slightly shocked by the gesture and simply shrugged off the question. "Grandpa is fine if you don't think 'Gibbs' is appropriate."

As nonchalant as he had attempted the comment, the thoughtfulness of the question struck him and helped pave the way to where they were now.

He chuckled to himself as he turned from the window to head back to the waiting room. He was recalling a conversation last month with Tony as the younger man accused him of being just as excited as the expectant parents were for the baby to come. The two had decided to be surprised by the child's gender and he didn't deny the accusation, couldn't have if he wanted to, he was excited. He was looking forward to meeting the new addition and even more so finding out if they would have a charming boy or a tough little girl.

Just as he entered the waiting area, the door off the side flew open and Abby came bustling out, her normal excited energy seemed to be amplified as she skidded through the door on her platform boots.

"Oh my gosh! That was the most amazing thing I have ever seen." She started, but her being out meant there was a new baby to meet and he could go back. He didn't wait for her to finish speaking before he dropped a kiss on her head and made his way back to the room.

He knew where he was going; he had been in periodically throughout the day, just not for the actual delivery. He imagined the sight Abby must have made running down this long hall to go tell them all the news and was smiling before he even reached the room at the end.

Gibbs knocked lightly and opened the door, his smile widened as he saw the parents. Tony was sitting behind Ziva on the bed; he had obviously been there for a while to help with delivery, they were both sweaty from their efforts and Ziva was an odd combination of pale and flushed that brought him back to the day Kelly was born.

Tony had his arms wrapped around Ziva from behind, helping as she gingerly cradled their new baby, wrapped in a little pink blanket.

They looked up together when the door opened and smiled at him, eyes shining with tears of joy that somehow they were able to keep from spilling over. They were holding a miracle in their arms and he felt a little choked up himself.

"It's a girl." They said at the same moment before they shared a smile and turned their focus back to the baby in their arms.

Suddenly, Tony's head snapped back to Gibbs as if he realized something, "LJ?" he asked.

Gibbs chuckled, finally moving into the room and stepping close to the bed to get a peek at the little girl. "Palmer took him to get another cookie."

As if on cue, the sound of tiny feet stomping down the hall filtered through the still open door and grew louder. Gibbs turned toward the door as the two-year-old barreled through his brown hair a disheveled mess from the long day trying to keep busy in the hospital. Gibbs had a split second to wonder why the couple couldn't have waited until tomorrow after LJ's haircut to go off and have their new baby.

A fresh haircut would have made for very nice pictures, but he could bring him back after the barber tomorrow and get some more shots.

The toddler practically flew at them, but Gibbs was faster, his instinctual awareness of the child's movements ingrained from two years of caring for him while his parent's worked.

Gibbs swept the boy up quickly, balancing him against a hip so they could both see what all the fuss had been about with Mommy for the past several months. "Look at that, little man." Gibbs said, ruffling the boys already unruly curls, "You've got a baby sister."

"Gram-pa." LJ whined at him as he wiggled enough to free his hands and smooth down his hair. The boy got that gesture from his father, along with the deep green eyes that were attempting to cut straight through Gibbs for messing up his hair, but that glare could only have come from Ziva's half of the genes.

The rest of their makeshift family had filtered in more slowly behind LJ's excited entry. As the room filled with laughter and everyone spread out to look in on the new addition to their team, LJ's glare fell away.

The toddler snuggled more firmly into Gibbs, throwing an arm around his neck so he wouldn't fall when he dangled himself forward to get a better look at the baby. Tony adjusted himself carefully around Ziva and the new baby and reached for his son. With an arm wrapped around the boy's back he helped him stand on the bed leaning against Tony's shoulder to look down on the baby.

"Meet baby?" the boy asked, looking to his father before turning his attention back to the little pink bundle.

"Of course, sorry buddy." Tony replied with a wide smile, hugging his boy a little closer to his side. "LJ, I'd like you to meet your new baby sister, Alexis DiNozzo. AJ this is your big brother Levi DiNozzo."

"Kay." LJ responded before turning back to Gibbs, "Meet baby. Go park now?"

The room erupted in laughter again, as the boy reminded them of the promise that he could go play on the jungle gym at the park after he met the new baby. He leaned over and gave each of his parents a sloppy kiss on the cheek, well aware of needing to say bye to them before he went anywhere. Then he raised his arms impatiently towards Gibbs. "Go park." He repeated.

Gibbs scooped the boy up, but Tim moved around to take him, "Actually, you're going to have him all night. How about Palmer and I take him down to the park so he can run off some of the sugar from those cookies and we can meet up with you later?"

LJ began bouncing happily in his arms, reaching for McGee and shouting an excited, "Uncle Tim! Uncle Tim! Park." Reluctantly Gibbs let the boy go, smiling at his enthusiasm despite the fact that Gibbs knew he'd be asleep two minutes after he was buckled in the car, since it was almost three hours past his normal nap time.

"You got a car seat?" Gibbs asked as Tim gave Abby a kiss on the cheek and started for the door.

McGee turned back and nodded, "Abby figured we should have one just in case, even though our little one won't fit in it until this little guy has probably outgrown the thing."

Abby curled up on the couch looking completely exhausted as Gibbs watched Ducky, Palmer, and McGee disappeared out the door with the very excited LJ. His gaze followed them until they were out of sight and then he felt a hand lightly grasping his.

He turned back to see Ziva smiling up at him as she squeezed his hand, "Do you want to hold her?"

He wouldn't have been able to speak in that moment if he wanted to, so instead acknowledged the question with a nod.

As he got the baby situated in his arms, he couldn't help but feel just a little more sadness fall away. He had experienced this with his own little girl, holding her for the first time as she slept and her mom recovered.

He gave himself a few minutes to regain himself before he looked up from the baby and back to the parents. They were watching him with an expression of open affection that he still hadn't gotten used to after more than two years, though it didn't make him uncomfortable anymore.

"She's beautiful." He told them and then ducked his head back to looking at the baby, "Is there anything you two don't do well when you work together?"

His question was met with silence, but when he looked up they were smiling at him, tears of joy sparkling in their eyes that matched his own, completely content and happy in the presence of family.

Tony gently pulled Ziva closer to him as he responded, "Nope. Not a thing."

xoxo

A/N: Finally, the requested Epilogue. After all this time, I hope you were not disappointed. This took us a little over three years down the line and I know so entirely fluffy it's ridiculous, but after the hell I put them through, they needed it.

I don't think I'll do a third story arch. I wouldn't mind a little fluffy family time after writing 300,000 words of mostly angst in the last six months, but knowing me the fluff would pass, the kids would end up in danger somehow, and I'd be back to angst with the sadness of hurting kids, however fictional. I named them, after all, so they are a part of me. I had fun with that little bit of it.

Thanks again for going on the journey with me.


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